


Choices

by MadDoctorArtist



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Drama, Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadDoctorArtist/pseuds/MadDoctorArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elissa Cousland knows the difficulty of the choices she's made during her journey, but what happens when she can't face her mistakes?(Takes place during the Arl of Redcliffe/ Sacred Ashes quest. Dialogue and themes are not entirely true to the game and several liberties have been taken. COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The chill air of the Frostback Mountains was a welcome change after so long shut in Orzammar, and I took a breath to savour it. Not that it could cleanse the guilt that haunted me. I tried to focus on the snow-capped horizon, but my thoughts wouldn't still. Once again I'd been thrown into a conflict not of my making, forced to pick sides I scarcely understood. And once again I was left with lingering doubts as to whether I'd made the right choice.

My eyes narrowed. Choice. How I'd come to loathe that word. It was ironic; I'd longed for choice when Duncan had dragged me from Highever, desperate to go back for Father and Mother. I'd longed for the choice to fight Howe, instead of being forced to become a Grey Warden. And there were times I still longed to choose to walk away from it all.

Yet now I'd gone from one extreme to the other. For with both the Circle and the Dwarves, I'd had to pick one path and forego another. Templars or mages; the castes or casteless; Harrowmont or Bhelan. Too busy bickering amongst themselves, I'd had to bring order to their chaos. To remind them that as they screamed and yelled and stamped their feet, the Blight swept the lands, ready to engulf Ferelden in darkness. And I was getting sick of…

"Hello, Ferelden to Elissa, is anyone home?"

I blinked, snapping my head up. Alastair was waiting before the mountain path, along with the others. He raised a concerned brow.

"Sorry." I discarded my train of thought. "What is it?"

"We don't mean to be too much trouble," Morrigan drawled, folding her arms, "but we would like to know your intent, Warden. You have yet to declare our next destination."

My face flushed. Guess I'd been too deep in thought to notice.

"Well, we can either try and track the Dalish elves, or go to Redcliffe," I said, regaining composure. "Any preferences?"

"Redcliffe is nearer," Alastair piped up, "and easier to find than the Dalish camp. We could be combing the Brecilian Forest for weeks otherwise."

"I too would prefer a more comfortable exercise," Zevran added, resting his hands behind his head.

"How unsurprising you'd wish for the simpler route," Morrigan scoffed. "I recommend we seek the elves. T'would be a more fruitful venture. For one, we would gain eyes to check the Blight's progress."

"But if Arl Eamon is as ill as the rumours say, should we not go to confirm this?" Leliana asked. "If we are too late…"

"Then it will be futile to try and gain the approval of the Redcliffe army," Morrigan retorted. "No doubt Loghain's influence has taken hold there, and if the Arl cannot counter it, what chance do we have? His men will more than likely attack us on sight. But if we had the backing of another army, they would have to think twice before crossing us."

"Who cares," bellowed Oghren, taking a swig from his flask. "So long as there's ale around I'm game for anything!"

"Indeed," Wynne said quietly. Sten frowned, but remained silent. "The choice is up to you, Elissa."

I clenched my teeth. Of course, it was always down to me.

"We'll go to Redcliffe," I said at last. Morrigan's eyes flashed, but I ignored her. "The Dalish aren't exactly on friendly terms with us, either. I'll take my chances with the Arl's soldiers."

"Good. Seems some of us still have sense," Alastair puffed out his chest. Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"Then let's make a start while it's still light," Wynne said.

Alastair strode ahead, shooting Morrigan a triumphant glare. Morrigan gripped her staff tighter, her lip curled. I shook my head. Yet another tightrope I had to walk delicately. It was a wonder they hadn't torn each other's throats out. But despite Morrigan's constant disdain, she had never betrayed my orders, so I could afford to ruffle her feathers now and then.

Besides, I had good reason to choose Redcliffe. Eamon's knights, as far as Alastair had told me, were loyal and steadfast, and would not simply cow to Loghain's rumour mongering. Nonetheless, many would be searching for the Sacred Ashes, so I had no idea how many remained around the village. I could only pray they would be willing to listen to a Warden.

"Something on your mind?"

I glanced to my left. Leliana was walking alongside me.

"You've been very quiet since we escaped the Deep Roads," she said.

"You know I'm not one for many words," I answered. Leliana smiled.

"Ah, but even for you this is a stretch," she teased. "Besides, you always hold that furrowed look whenever you are troubled." The heat returned to my cheeks. She always watched me so closely. "Has something upset you?"

I sighed. "It's nothing I can change."

"Maybe so, but dwelling on such things will not do you much good," Leliana said. Her tone darkened. "I should know."

"Look, it's nothing, really," I said. "I…I just get frustrated sometimes, that's all."

"With those two?" Leliana nodded towards Alastair and Morrigan, who continued to sling insults. "You wouldn't be alone there."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"So what do you mean?"

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to reveal the truth, yet my wariness held me in check. It felt wrong to share my doubts so openly. But Leliana always had a patient ear, and I'd come to appreciate her counsel. Perhaps it would do no harm.

"I was never meant for this," I said softly, in case the others overheard. "I was the younger Cousland, and a woman. Never meant to take over the family name, or the responsibility of Highever. I was never supposed to…to become a leader, to have others look to me for guidance. I just…" I shook my head. "I don't know if what I'm doing is right."

Leliana's gaze softened.

"It is only natural to feel that way, especially given the burden placed on you," she said at last. "But everything you've done so far has worked out. You restored the Circle and defeated the abominations, you destroyed the Anvil so it would take no more innocent lives, and appointed a ruler to the Dwarves. Where there was unrest, you brought stability, and you did not abuse your power to achieve such." She touched my shoulder. "You're a good person, Elissa, and it shows in the decisions you take."

I nodded slowly.

"It's one of the many reasons I admire you," Leliana went on. "You are not afraid to stand for your convictions. I have seen many falter at much less."

"You give me too much credit," I replied.

"Of course," Leliana smirked. "After all, you chose to bring me along, didn't you?"

"I have yet to see how that proves me a wise decision-maker…hey!"

I barely finished my sentence before having to quickly side-step. The bard was still on target, and her elbow grazed my side. My foot slipped in the ice, and we almost thumped into a nearby tree.

"What in the Maker's name are you two doing back there?" Wynne snapped. She shook her head. "I would expect this kind of behaviour from Alastair or Zevran, but not you, Warden."

I cleared my throat, straightening my sword sheathes. She reminded me so much of Mother when she took that tone.

"My apologies, Wynne," I said. "You are right, we should not tarry. Redcliffe won't come to us any sooner."

Wynne nodded, turning back to the road. Leliana giggled softly.

"I will repay you later, dear Sister," I said, unable to stop my grin. "Do not think the Maker will save you."

"I will accept any punishment, Warden," Leliana conceded. "Anything is worth seeing your smile returned."

The burning returned to my cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the cold.


	2. Chapter 2

It took four days to reach the bronze cliffs of Redcliffe; much longer than I'd liked. But we'd been forced to detour as Darkspawn patrols had come after us. One group had even attacked in the middle of the night. Had Alastair and I not felt something amiss, we could well have ended up as corpses. The beasts were starting to sense us more easily, their numbers strengthening, and that chilled me. Was I taking too slow a course, causing needless delay? Was I endangering Ferelden with such inefficiency?

I closed my eyes. No; it was not my fault a Mage had grown too power-hungry, nor that the Dwarves were too preoccupied to appoint their own King. I could only push through one step at a time. There was no place for guilt.

So why then these constant feelings of inadequacy?

"Elissa, can we talk for a moment?"

Alastair touched my shoulder, and it took all my willpower not to jump. I hadn't heard him approach. The others were still a little way behind, so I looked at him and nodded. It would do good to quell my errant worries.

"Of course," I said. "What is it?"

Alastair swallowed and glanced at his feet.

"There's…um, well there's something I need to tell you, before we see the Arl," he mumbled. "I, uh, well, I probably should've told you this sooner."

I raised a brow. He was being unusually evasive.

"You already told me that he raised you," I said.

"That's not all there is." Alastair took a breath, collecting his thoughts. "There was another reason the Arl took me in. I told you about my mother, but the thing is, my father…"

He was interrupted by loud footfalls, followed by a large belch.

"Ancestors, this place is too close to the sky!" Oghren grumbled, covering a hand with his eyes. "Can't believe this is the kind of dump you human nobles are so proud of." His eyes wandered to a building half-buried in the rocks. "Least there's a tavern…"

"The fortifications seem suited for the landscape," Sten said, studying the buildings.

"Too quiet for my tastes," Zevran butted in. "Where is the bustle, the chatter, the life?"

I flashed Alastair an apologetic look. We'd have to continue our conversation later.

"We'd best take a look," I said. "Come on."

I took the lead, heading onto the main bridge. A young man was standing there, keeping watch. He was armed with a bow, but was clearly no soldier. The paths were near-silent, and my heart tensed. Something wasn't right.

"You there, travellers!" he called. "You should not come this way, unless you've come to help us?"

I exchanged a glance with Alastair.

"What do you mean?"

The man stared at us.

"You mean, you don't know?"

"No, we don't," I said, my unease rising. "We just know the Arl is sick, and wish to see him."

"He could be already dead for all we know!" the man exclaimed. Alastair's eyes widened. "Look, let me explain…"

By now the others had caught up, so we listened to his tale. He was barely able to keep the tremor from his voice.

"We've been attacked by malevolent creatures," he said, "and every night they push us further back. We have no way to defend ourselves, as most of our soldiers are searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and we can't reach the castle!" He held his temples. "We don't even know what's going on…"

My fist clenched so hard I was sure my nails would leave marks. Maker's breath, why must there always be something else? We did not have time for this nonsense!

Leliana nudged me, and I took a breath. Now was not the time to reveal my frustrations. I'd have plenty time to blow them out later.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "What can we do?"

"You'll help us?" The young man's eyes lit up. "Then let me take you to Bann Teagan. He'll want to see you."

"The Arl's brother?" Alastair blinked. He still seemed in shock.

"Told you the elves would've been a wiser choice," Morrigan muttered.

"Alright, let's see what he has to say," I said.

We followed the young man down the steep path to the Chantry. The way overlooked the entire village, and I could appreciate Zevran's earlier point. The houses were deserted, the lakeside silent, and all that stood in the square were a handful of archers. Redcliffe might not have been as large as Highever, but this degree of quiet was too much. Everything seemed so dead.

"I don't like this," Leliana murmured, glancing around.

"Me neither," I added. "Maker knows what we must face this time."

One glimpse inside the Chantry told much of the story. Amidst the Chantry priests huddled frightened children, anxious mothers and frail old men. The pews had been moved aside to create more room, and Andraste's Flame scented the air with wispy smoke. A few villagers cast their sight on us, but quickly turned away. Their eyes held no hope.

The young archer led us to a tall man with brown hair, who bore a sword and shield. His bearded face was creased with worry.

"Bann Teagan, we have visitors," the young man announced.

The Bann turned to us, his expression weary.

"Is this necessary?" he asked. "Forgive me, travellers, but our village is in crisis right now. I don't mean to be unkind, but if you were hoping for quiet lodgings, might I suggest you look elsewhere."

Alastair frowned, stepping forward.

"Bann Teagan, do you remember me?" he asked.

The Bann stared for a moment. His eyes widened.

"By the Maker, is that you, Alastair?"

Alastair nodded.

"It's been a long time," he greeted sagely. "Although last we met I was covered in mud."

The Bann managed a smile.

"I do indeed recall," he said, "although it seems a lot has changed. Are you a Templar now?"

"No sir," Alastair said. "I am a Grey Warden, as is my companion Elissa here. We've come seeking Arl Eamon's help against the Blight, and against Loghain."

The Bann grimaced.

"Yes, I understand the gravity of the situation, no thanks to Loghain trying to start a civil war as the Blight ravages Ferelden," he sighed. "But sadly we have our own problems. I trust Tomas has informed you of the night attacks we've suffered?"

"Yes," I said, taking charge. "It seems mysterious dark creatures come from the castle and assault the village."

"That is correct," Bann Teagan said. "Tonight again we prepare to face them, but we are not hopeful. So many lives have already been lost, and I have too few skilled swords to hand." He bowed his head. "Warden, I know the Blight weighs heavy on your shoulders, but as things stand I am in desperate need. I cannot promise much in the stead of my unwell brother, but if you can help us, I will do everything in my power to aid you."

I hesitated. I was not keen for another wild goose-chase. A quick glance to Alastair and Leliana, however, brought shame to such thoughts. If I could not help an ally in time of need, what right did I have to call upon them myself?

"Of course," I said, hoping my pause was not too obvious. "Even if we were not seeking the Arl, I would offer my assistance."

"Thank you," the Bann said, managing a small smile. Alastair smiled as well, while Morrigan bristled and muttered under her breath. It was probably just as well I didn't catch it.

"What would you have us do?" I asked.

"Please speak with my soldiers outside and help them get ready," Bann Teagan said. "Once you've completed preparations, return to me, and we will plan our defence."

I nodded. "As you say."

We bade the Bann farewell and left the Chantry. Once we returned to the open, Morrigan hissed.

"You must be mad, Warden," she grumbled. "Do we really have time to fight legions of the undead while the Darkspawn ravage more and more of the land?"

"We need the Arl's help," I said, my tone firm. "In case you've forgotten, Loghain has the sway of the kingdom, and even with the Dwarves, the Mages and possibly the Elves, it will not be enough to stand against the Blight. We have to win over the remaining nobles if we want to stand a chance."

"And every moment we dawdle we let the Darkspawn numbers grow," Morrigan challenged. "Soon even the whole of Ferelden will not be enough, and then what?"

I halted and spun around.

"Don't try my patience, Morrigan," I said coldly. "I have made my decision and will stand by it. If you wish to continue complaining, I suggest you seek company elsewhere."

Morrigan blinked, taken aback. Her expression soon returned to normal, but for a moment I wondered if I caught the hint of a smirk.

"…good." She tossed her hair back and slunk towards the archers.

I let out a breath. I was used to Morrigan's occasional questioning, but this had been something else. Why her sudden challenge? I must have revealed my uncertainty too much.

"Never mind her," Wynne said, picking up on my demeanour. "It is right we help these people as best we can."

"Yes. I owe the Arl so much," Alastair added. "I'll do whatever it takes to see him back in good health."

"Right," I said, pushing my hesitations aside. "We'd best speak with the soldiers, then."

* * *

 

The sun was sitting below the lake by the time I returned to the Chantry. Through a bit of exploring and negotiation, I'd managed to conjure up a defence plan with the soldiers, although in honesty I wasn't very hopeful. If the creatures were as relentless as had been described, we would be in for a long night. Still, our presence had reignited a spark in the villagers, and I prayed it would be enough to see us through.

"There you are," Leliana greeted, waving. Alastair, Morrigan and Wynne were with her, along with Duke, my mabari hound. "Is everything ready?"

"As much as it can be," I said. "Sten, Zevran and Oghren are moving the oil barrels as we speak, and it looks like Owen has finished his repairs, too."

"So now we wait for the fireworks," Alastair murmured.

"Indeed," I said. "Morrigan, you and Duke stay here and protect the Chantry. The others will join you when they've finished moving the barrels."

Morrigan cast a dry look to my hound, but she shrugged and took her position. The rest of us walked up the hill. All the while Alastair's eyes were intent on the castle walls. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. This place had been his childhood home.

Bann Teagan was waiting at the top of the path, joined by a few archers.

"Greetings, Warden," he said. "My men tell me all is ready. I cannot thank you enough."

"The battle is yet to come," I warned. "You can sing our praises once…"

I was cut off by a shout from the barricade. I looked towards the castle. A dark mist had started to appear above the battlements, and a shiver ran down my spine. They were coming.

"Take position," I said, drawing my swords. "Leliana, Wynne, focus on ranged attacks. Alastair, follow my lead. Do not let the creatures get past the barricade."

"Understood." Alastair drew his sword, his shield braced in his other hand. "Maker watch over us." Leliana's bow creaked, and Wynne raised her staff. Bann Teagan called to the rest of his men and joined my side, his jaw set.

A brief silence followed, and then the most awful shriek reached my ears. It made the screams of the abominations seem like birdsong. Next came the rattle of bones and armour, and finally I saw the first one: a haggard corpse of melted flesh, its eye sockets gaping behind a rusted helmet. It rushed down the hillside, sword raised, and let out another howl.

Yelling, I charged ahead. My dagger ran through the sinews of its neck, and it collapsed to the ground, lifeless. Sadly, there were many more to make up for it. The soldiers cried out, rushing forwards, and soon the world was a mess of cackling corpses and hacking blades. The mist thickened, but my swords swung true, running through corpse after corpse. Still they kept coming, and sweat pooled down my back. How many of these things were there?!

Finally the rush calmed, and a soldier yelled victory. I leant on my knees, catching my breath. My blades were plastered with blackened blood. By the Maker, that was…

"Another wave!" cried Alastair, plunging into the mist beside me. I snapped my head up, swords readied. The howling returned, but it was getting harder to see where it was coming from.

"Elissa, duck!"

I dived, hitting the ground as an arrow of flame sailed overhead and sank into the chest of the walking corpse ahead. It staggered, and I swept my leg, knocking it to the ground. My blade found its home in its throat, and it stopped writhing. Grimacing, I removed my sword and made to venture into the mist. Their numbers seemed to be slowing. If we could drive them back…

"Wait!"

I glanced over my shoulder. A soldier was running up the path, his eyes wild with terror.

"They're coming from the lake and heading for the Chantry!" he cried. "Please, they're going to break through!"

Swearing, I sheathed my swords and ran after him. Morrigan and the others would need help, and Alastair, Leliana and Wynne could handle the ones here.

This was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

My bleary eyes welcomed the dawn as I sat on the Chantry steps, surveying our slain foes. Leliana leant against the entrance pillar, dozing quietly, as Wynne patched up Alastair and Morrigan's injuries. Oghren was passed out nearby, while Sten remained silent in the shadows. Zevran was cleaning his daggers, and Duke rested at his feet, licking the blood off his paws. By some miracle all our forces remained, and not a single corpse had breached our defences. The Bann had been amazed, if not extremely grateful, but since the onslaught had ceased I had not seen him. I guessed he was making plans to breach the castle and find out what—or who—was making these creatures torment the village.

"There," Wynne said, lowering her arms from Alastair's thigh. He stood up, testing his weight on his leg. "Elissa, is there anything you need from me?"

"I'm fine, Wynne." I nodded at Leliana, still curled against the pillar. "Fortunately I had a guardian angel who made my work much easier."

"T'would seem our Warden continues to excel at delegation," Morrigan chipped in, tapping her staff as she sat on the Chantry steps. "But I must admit I am intrigued to the origin of these creatures. No ordinary Mage could conjure such power."

"There is a demon at work," Wynne said. "I'm sure of it."

"Well, demon slayer is Elissa's middle name," Alastair joked. "She can handle it."

"Several, if your tales of the Circle Tower are to be believed," Zevran added.

I pulled a face at them, but before I could think a retort, I caught the Bann approaching. I stood up, trying to hide my yawns.

"I am glad to see you unhurt, Warden," Bann Teagan said. "And more so that the village has survived without another casualty. You truly are a gift from the Maker."

"Perhaps, but we've still not got to the root of the problem," I said. "This is not a position we can maintain."

"Agreed," the Bann said, "but it is thanks to you we can finally make progress on that front." He gestured towards the windmill on the hillside. "There is a way inside the castle other than the main gates that only I can open. If I can get through and unseal the gates for you, we should be able to find some answers."

"It could be risky going alone," Alastair said.

"Yes, we don't know what could be waiting inside," I added. "Are you sure?"

"If I bring a larger force it will draw too much attention," Bann Teagan answered. "I know the castle well, I am confident I can remain undetected. But I will need…"

"My lord, my lord!"

The Bann turned, spotting two figures hurrying down the cliff path. One was a soldier, and the other a woman. Alastair tensed.

"By the Maker…" The Bann stepped towards them. "I can't believe it, Isolde!" His face flooded with relief. "Thank Andraste you're still alive!"

My brow creased. Wasn't she the Arl's wife?

The Arlessa and her escort stopped before us, her brow laced with worry.

"Teagan, I am so glad you are still here!" She spoke in heavily accented Orlesian. "Something terrible is going on within the castle. You must come back with me."

"Isolde, you need to tell me exactly what is going on," the Bann said. "Is Eamon…?"

"Still alive, but gravely ill," Isolde replied. She glanced aside, evasive. "I am sorry, I cannot tell you much more. I do not have much time. But I need your help." She shook her head. "There is an unspeakable evil in the castle. It calls upon the dead and transforms the living into these disfigured corpses! The mage responsible has been imprisoned, but still it continues, and I don't know what else to do."

"A mage?" Alastair blurted.

The Arlessa turned to him.

"Who are you?" Her voice became abrupt. "This has nothing to do with…"

"My lady, these are Grey Wardens," Bann Teagan interrupted. "I and the village owe them our lives. And surely you recall Alastair?"

Isolde looked to Alastair again, a subtle tension rising between them.

"I…forgive me," she managed. "I would exchange pleasantries but…" She stood tall and regained herself. "Teagan, I can't remain here much longer. The evil has Connor and my husband at its mercy. I am surprised it has let me speak with you, but I am out of options. You have to return to the castle with me. Alone."

I studied Isolde, biting my lip. An odd request, indeed, but her furrowed features seemed genuine. Nonetheless, she was holding something back. I couldn't help but wonder if she was going to lead the Bann into some trap.

The Bann's lip twisted. He too was probably considering the risk.

"Allow me to speak with my companions for a moment, Isolde," he said at last. "Then I will go with you."

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Isolde held her hands to her chest. "Please do not take too long. I will wait for you by the bridge."

She walked off with the lone soldier. I watched her go, unable to quell my rising unease. Why was she being so evasive? Was it out of necessity, or out of fear…

"Warden." Bann Teagan cleared his throat. "I can perhaps guess what you are thinking, that this is a trap, but I see no other way forward. I must get into the castle." His tone made it clear there would be no point arguing. "However, I am not so bold to think I can go toe-to-toe with such a deadly force. You, on the other hand, stand a much greater chance." He paused, removing a ring from his finger. "Use this and take the secret entrance to the castle via the windmill. Hopefully I can distract whatever started this and allow you to slip inside. It's our best chance in restoring peace."

"Are you certain this is wise?" Leliana asked; she was wide awake now, and had joined our side.

"Perhaps I am a fool, but this is my family and I must do what I can," the Bann answered.

I sighed. Our course had been set.

"It seems I would have to agree," I said. "I will take a small force through the secret entrance and see you inside."

"Elissa!" Alastair grabbed my shoulder. "You aren't…you're just going to let him go like that?"

"Alastair, it is not her decision to make," the Bann said sternly. "I've made my choice, as you should yours." He handed the ring to me, and I took it. "Maker watch over you."

He strode back to the hill, towards the bridge. I watched him join Isolde, and together they crossed towards the keep. I hoped he knew what he was doing.

"We should not linger," Wynne advised. "What is our plan?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

"We should split up," I said. "You, Morrigan, and Alastair will come with me through the hidden passage. I want everyone else to stay here and protect the village until we return."

"Hmph, as you wish." Sten grunted and walked off.

"Aw, I always get to miss the fun," Zevran pouted. "But I shall do as you command, Warden." He flashed a wink, before following Sten. "I will let our drunken dwarf friend know as well."

Leliana fingered her bow, looking a little hurt.

"You do not wish to take me along this time?" she asked. "Do you not trust my skill?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "It's not that at all. But if a mage is behind this and we are potentially dealing with a powerful demon, I need those with the most experience with the Fade. Besides, someone needs to stay here and pick up the pieces if something goes wrong."

Leliana nodded, though she didn't look much soothed.

"Very well, I will trust your judgement. Maker's blessings upon you."

She walked away, and I grimaced. She tended to revert to her Chantry-speak whenever she was annoyed. I would have to make it up to her later.

Letting out a breath, I looked back to the others.

"We'd better get going," I said. "Be on your guard."

Wynne and Morrigan nodded, heading towards the windmill. I made to follow, but Alastair grabbed my hand.

"Elissa, are you sure the four of us will be enough?" " His eyes were filled with concern. "I understand what the Bann said about not wanting to draw attention, but this might be too much. And this…thing…that has the Arl and his family…what if it changes its mind and…"

"Alastair, calm down." I held his arm. "I can imagine how hard this must be for you, but thinking about what we might face won't make it any easier. Whatever danger comes our way, we'll do everything we can to deal with it, like we've always done. We'll save them."

Alastair sighed.

"Yes, of course, you're right. Sorry. I'm being stupid." He brushed back his hair. "Heh, besides, what have I got to worry about? You are the demon slayer, after all."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to be a Templar slayer in a minute if you don't stop that."

"Ooh, better not let the Chantry hear you say that," Alastair replied, folding his arms. "You could get into a lot of trouble."

"I would, if you were a real Templar," I smirked. "So I wouldn't be so flippant about it."

"Maybe," Alastair admitted. "Although there are other reasons you should think twice about crossing me, you know."

"Well, those other reasons are going to have to wait," I said, dragging him towards the windmill. "Come on, we need to hurry."

* * *

 

The dungeons of the Arl's keep were cold and damp, and the stench of rusted metal and rotting straw were rampant. I had to breathe through my mouth, squinting through the darkness. So far none of our undead 'friends' had appeared, but I was sure they would be waiting further inside. Still, the silence was unnerving. Not a single guard had survived, and neither had their prisoners.

As I rounded the next corner, a snarl broke the air. Heart pounding, I drew my blades, scouring the shadows. Moments later three corpses sprang to life, their swords swirling. I dodged, twisting behind the first one and plunging my dagger into its back. A burst of ice flew past, freezing the second, and Alastair pounced on the third.

"I am getting quite sick of these things now," Morrigan sighed, flicking a speck of dust from her finger. "T'will not be a moment too soon when we put them to rest once and for all."

"Hey, who goes there?"

A new voice echoed from ahead, and I blinked. I sheathed my dagger, keeping my sword free, and headed towards the next block of cells.

Inside the last one paced a man dressed in blood-splattered Circle robes. He had dark hair, and sported lash marks on his face. His eyes widened as I approached, though they soon narrowed with suspicion.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I could ask the same of you," I answered. "You must be the mage Isolde spoke of, the one behind all this madness."

My works set off a spark, and the man grabbed the bars.

"That's not true!" he barked, rattling the metal. "I only poisoned the Arl, I never summoned the…"

"What?!" Alastair stormed forward, nostrils flaring. "Poisoned the Arl? Under whose orders?"

The man shrank back, throwing his hands in front of him.

"L-Loghain," he stammered, keeping as far from the bars as he could. "He said the Arl was a danger to the safety of Ferelden, and that he'd give me what I wanted if I carried out the deed!"

"Start from the beginning," I said, gently pulling Alastair back. We would gain no information through sheer intimidation. "Who are you and how did you come to Redcliffe?"

The man sighed.

"My name is Jowan." Wynne's eyes widened, but she kept quiet. "I was…was once part of the Circle, but I dabbled in blood magic and had to flee. The Templars chased after me, so I came here to hide." He swallowed. "Along my travels I met Loghain, and it all went awry from there. You see, Isolde's son, Connor, was…showing signs."

"Signs of what?" Alastair asked.

"Is your capacity to understand anything really that limited?" Morrigan jeered. "He means signs of being a mage."

"Yes," Jowan went on. "But Isolde was terrified the Circle would take him away, so she asked me to oversee his training. She wanted him to learn how to hide his talent. And with my mission from Loghain, I had no better chance than to carry out the deed."

"You heartless heretic!" Wynne hissed. "You betrayed the Circle, and now you betray Redcliffe as well, when their people took you in out of pity?" She scoffed. "You have not changed at all, Jowan."

"But I didn't think Loghain would lie!" Jowan protested. "He's a hero, the kingdom looks up to him. I just wanted to be free, and he promised me that. Yet now he's left me here to rot." His voice quieted. "He was never going to keep his end of the bargain."

"So what about the corpses?" I asked.

"I told you, that wasn't me!" Jowan snapped. "I was already imprisoned when it started. Isolde had me beaten and tortured, but I swear on the Maker I have nothing to do with what's happening!"

"Hmm, interesting," Morrigan pondered. "I am fairly confident he is being truthful, Warden. Perhaps t'is the little pup behind this. He could well have bitten off more than he could chew in eagerness to test his gift."

"So Connor might have done something unintentionally?" I asked.

"That might not be too far-fetched," Jowan said. "If he's accidentally torn the Veil, that would allow demons and spirits to cross from the Fade. The powerful ones would create those monsters."

"That would also explain Isolde's hesitance to tell us the truth," Wynne said. "She would not want any harm to come to her son."

"Indeed," Morrigan added. "So, fearless leader, what do we do with this revelation?"

"Let me help!" Jowan exclaimed. He clenched his fists. "I've…I've done many terrible things, and I need to atone for them."

"And just what exactly will you do?" Alastair challenged. "Summon another demon? Try to slay all the corpses? Raise another army of undead behind our back?"

Jowan hung his head. "I…I don't know. But I want to do what I can. There must be some way I can fix this."

I rubbed my temple. There was sincerity behind the mage's words, and I empathised with his guilt for being led astray. On the other hand, he was still a blood mage, and Wynne's mistrust did not seem misplaced. If he had wronged the Circle so badly, I would have to think twice about trusting him.

"Warden, I must be honest here," Wynne said. "I would be cautious believing Jowan's words. I witnessed the very same when he fled the Tower, and I do not believe he has learned from the past."

"Ha, typical cowardice from one of the Circle," Morrigan argued. "His power could be a bonus, considering what we face."

"Don't let this traitor free," Alastair growled. "He needs to pay for poisoning the Arl."

I squared my shoulders. Even without their comments, my mind had been made up.

"I think I'd rather leave you here for now," I said. "I have enough problems without having to keep an eye on you as well. But depending on what we find out, I might come back."

Jowan's face fell, but he bowed in acknowledgement. "I understand."

"Then we should move on." I stepped away, heading into the next corridor. The others followed.

"A prudent choice, Warden," Wynne said.

"My father once told me never keep a traitor in service, lest he betray you as well," I answered. "But you seemed most disturbed to see him again. Did you know him in the Circle?"

Wynne hesitated. "I did. He was a promising student, but was too drawn to that which was forbidden. It led to a terrible tragedy. I had assumed the Templars had caught him."

"I see. I'm sorry if it stirred up bad memories."

"It's fine," Wynne said. "Let us not be distracted from the task at hand. We must enter the castle quickly."

* * *

 

When we reached the main chamber, I could barely believe what I was seeing. The large hearth was lit, casting the room in flickering shadows, and Isolde was there with Connor and a few knights. And the Bann…was running around doing cartwheels. Even Morrigan looked disturbed as the man danced and spun like a court jester, while Connor clapped in amusement. Meanwhile the Arlessa trembled, afraid to betray any emotion.

Eventually the Bann finished his routine, and returned to Connor's side. At the same time, Connor finally acknowledged our presence, and he glared at me. My blood ran cold. It was not a young boy looking through those eyes.

"So, are you the visitors Mother was telling me about?" His voice was curt, and distorted. "The ones who've been spoiling my fun?" His brows narrowed. "I can barely see you. Just what are you? Mother, tell me!"

"It…it is a woman," Isolde said softly. It was as if she couldn't even trust her own voice. "Like me."

"Ha, she's not like you!" Connor snarled. "She's young and pretty, for one thing." He raised an accusing finger. "Who are you, and what do you want, woman?"

He emphasised the latter word, meaning to insult. I ignored it, thinking through my words. If I was not careful I would only make things worse.

"I'm a Grey Warden," I said at last. "I've come to help you and the Arl."

"Help me? Help Father?" Connor laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. "More like help yourself! You want something in return." His eyes flared. "How dare you think you're entitled to such a reward, after you've ruined my sport and stopped my plans to conquer the lands! I think you need to be punish….ugh…"

He cut himself short, suddenly holding his head. I tensed, a hand on my weapons. But when he looked up again, he faced his mother, his hands shaking.

"M-Mother?" His voice quivered. "What…where am I?"

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Isolde threw her arms to him. "Can you hear me, Connor?"

However, as her hands made contact, Connor flinched. He shook his head, and pushed her away.

"Don't touch me!" he shrieked. "Nobody coddles me or tells me what to do!" He cast out his hand. "And especially no woman!"

He fled through the rear doorway, and at the same time the Bann and knights attacked. I stepped back, unwilling to draw my weapons, but one look told me they were under a thrall. They would not listen to reason.

Grimacing, my sword and dagger came to hand. The first knight sliced his blade, and I ducked, before hitting his face with the pommel of my sword. I didn't need to inflict more damage than I needed to. He groaned, slumping to the floor, when the Bann ran at me. I blocked his first swing, but he was very strong and my boots slid on the stone floor.

"Snap out of it!" I yelled, only to gasp as he bashed his shield into my ribs. Coughing, I fell to my knees. Bann Teagan gloated, raising his sword, only to be tackled by Alastair. Morrigan raised her staff, an ice spell forming.

"No, don't hurt him!" Alastair rolled aside, pushing the Bann out of range, and the spell struck his shoulder-plate. Bann Teagan bumped his head on the ground, and he grasped his temples.

Alastair snarled, ripping off his frozen pauldron. He shot Morrigan a death glare. "That was completely uncalled for, Morrigan! We're not here to kill them!"

"The Bann seemed more than willing to try to kill Elissa," Morrigan retorted. "I was only doing what I had to."

"Enough!" Isolde cried out. She ran to the Bann, and he grimaced, sitting up. I raised my weapons, wary. "Teagan, are you alright?"

Bann Teagan blinked, hard, and the glaze from his eyes disappeared.

"I…am better, I think," he said, rubbing his head. "At least my mind is my own again."

"Thank the Maker." Isolde grasped his hand. "Had you been killed after I brought you here…" Her voice broke, as did my heart. This poor woman; I could only imagine what was going through her mind. "I have been so foolish."

She turned to me, her eyes filled with tears. "Please, Connor is not responsible for what he does. There…There must be some way to save him…to bring him back!"

"Perhaps the mage you imprisoned?" the Bann suggested. "He might know how to reverse this."

Isolde's fist clenched. "Even under torture he refuses to lift this curse. I do not know what use he will be."

"It's at least a start," I encouraged. "I also don't wish to entertain the idea of harming Connor if I can help it."

Isolde nodded, before she called to one of the knights. He disappeared, and shortly returned with the sorry sight of Jowan.

"Maleficar, it is about time you ended this madness you started," the Bann ordered. "Haven't you caused enough damage?"

"I didn't start it!" Jowan said. "But…there is a way we might end it."

"If you mean to say we kill Connor…"

"No," Jowan said. "I mean, that would be the easiest, yet there is a way to spare him harm. If a mage can enter the Fade and kill the demon possessing him from there, he would be freed."

"Really?" Isolde's eyes widened. "The demon can be killed in the Fade, and it wouldn't hurt my boy?"

"Yes," Jowan said. "I know how to do the ritual." He hesitated. "Usually it needs several mages and lots of lyrrium, but with my blood magic, I can do it another way."

Wynne gasped. "You don't mean…"

"The life-force of another can supply the lyrrium." Jowan looked away. "But I'll need a lot. All of it, in fact."

"A sacrifice?" I asked.

Jowan nodded. A dark silence fell over us, and he clasped his hands. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. It's not much of an alternative."

"Rightly so," the Bann said. "We cannot consider such an option, it is too…"

"I disagree," Isolde broke in. "This is all my doing. In trying to protect Connor I have made things so much worse. I have trapped him in a nightmare not of his making. It is only right I sacrifice myself to save him."

"You can't be serious!" the Bann exclaimed. "Eamon would never allow it!"

"Connor should not have to pay the price for my mistakes," Isolde answered. "I will not let him die."

Alastair shuffled on his feet.

"Blood magic isn't going to solve this," he muttered.

"I am uneasy with this course also," Wynne said. "I know what Jowan is capable of. Who's to say he can use such power against us?"

"Then I leave it up to you, Warden," the Bann said. "What course should we take?"

I glanced to the floor, clenching my teeth. My frustrations were bubbling again, and it was all I could do to keep control. Why should this be my decision? It was not I who invited demons into the castle to terrorize the village, nor I who tried to hide a fledgling Mage from the Circle. It should not be me picking who was to die!

I would not be reduced to this.

"Jowan." I turned to him. "You said the usual way to do this was with more mages, correct?"

"Yes," Jowan said.

"Then I will bring them," I said. "The Circle have pledged their allegiance to the Wardens, they will heed my call. I'll not have more blood shed for no reason."

"That is an excellent idea," Wynne said, "provided we have time, of course."

"We'll have to make time," I answered. "You and Alastair need to find the First Enchanter and bring back what we need. You'll be faster without the rest of us. Morrigan and I will stay and help watch over Connor."

"Yes." Wynne bowed. "We'll leave at once."

"And the child?" Morrigan asked. "Do you honestly believe he'll sit quietly in his room like a good abomination?"

"That's why we're staying," I said. "And once Wynne and Alastair return, you'll have the honour of finding the demon and killing it in the Fade."

"So nice of you to always think of me," Morrigan huffed. "I will await that joy with baited breath." She leant against the wall and folded her arms.

Bann Teagan and Isolde bowed their heads.

"Warden, thank you," Isolde said. "If anything can be done to save Connor…"

"We'll do everything we can to protect him," I promised.

"Yes." The Bann turned to the guard. "Take the apostate back into the dungeon. We'll summon him when the others return."


	4. Chapter 4

"Warden, Warden! Are you in there? For the love of Andraste, answer me!"

A frantic voice jolted me from sleep. I shook my head, rubbing my eyes. I'd spent the last two days in one of the castle studies, trying to catch up on rest. Dusky moonlight filtered in from the window; night had fallen again. And still no word from Alastair or Wynne.

"What is it?" Yawning, I fumbled for my weapons, then opened the study door. It was Ser Perth, and his face was ashen. I blinked. What was he doing in the castle?

"The corpses, they're marching on the Chantry!" he cried. "An entire platoon suddenly emerged from the lake; our soldiers and your friends can't hold them back. We have to stop them!"

His words snapped me wide awake, and I ran after him through the corridors. Maker's breath, no, not now!

We joined two other knights, who were waiting with the Bann. He carried his sword and shield.

"Connor has locked himself in the Arl's bedroom," he said. "Isolde is trying to get him out, but to no avail. We must help the village!"

"Right."

We hurried to the main gates. Morrigan was already there, and she acknowledged me with a nod. Together we sprinted across the bridge, and I cast a look over the village. The navy sky was drowned in mist, and an ominous glow hung over the lake. The clangs of blades and shields echoed, and I swore. The dark streets were flooded with armoured corpses, and I couldn't see what was happening.

"We must get to the Chantry!" I drew my swords and took off, Morrigan at my heels. Her staff was a blur, shooting bolts of lightning that bathed the rocks in vivid light. The corpses nearby turned towards us, and I swept through them, cutting every piece of exposed flesh I could find. Rage burned in my veins, fuelling my strength. They fell, and another group surged in their place. I did not let up, tearing through, but more and more surrounded me. This couldn't be real; it had to be a nightmare!

Finally one corpse screamed, ramming its shield into my chest. I staggered, losing my balance, and my dagger was knocked away. The flat of a blade smacked my face, and I cried out, tasting blood.

"There are too many!" Morrigan cried.

"I won't give up!" I yelled, struggling upright. I swung my sword, meeting another hilt, when another stray blade caught my shoulder. I hissed, biting back the sting, and struck my assailant away. Then an arrow bounced off my gauntlet, followed by another that found a gap in my armour. I yelped, and the corpses pressed in. My sword slipped from my hand, and I couldn't breathe.

"Elissa!"

Three corpses in front of me suddenly sank to the ground, their backs filled with arrows. I seized the break, grasping my sword and plunging it into the corpse behind me. A gap appeared in the lines, and Leliana emerged, sinking enemies around her as fast as she could draw her arrows. My heart sang with relief.

"Leliana!" I picked up my fallen dagger and limped to her side.

"What is going on?!" Leliana kept her bow nocked. "Have Alastair and Wynne not returned? They said you needed the mages!"

"No," I said, hacking at another corpse. "I was not expecting the demon to attack again so soon!"

"We cannot wait any longer!" Morrigan snapped; she had broken free to join us. "They are going to…"

The sharp crack of splintering wood reached my ears, and I looked to the Chantry. Ser Perth and Eamon's remaining knights were pressed against the doorway, inches away from being crushed.

"No!" I bolted back into the fray, carving a line through the bodies. The corpses screamed, focusing on me. A shower of blades descended, and some of them found their marks. Then I was hit in the side and I fell, cracking my knees on the Chantry steps. I could feel my blood running freely. Instinctively I raised my blades, only to be knocked aside. My dagger escaped my fingers, and I closed my eyes.

Suddenly a blaze of lightning erupted. The charge streamed through my sword into my arm and I screamed. It was like liquid fire pouring over my skin. My head throbbed, and I collapsed on my front, barely conscious. My ravaged arm ached, and I couldn't move.

"…losing battle…return…another way…"

Strong hands took my arms, and I was hoisted upright. The pain in my right hand sparked, and tears flooded my eyes.

"Warden, my apologies," Morrigan said; she was holding my left side, Leliana the other. "I did not want to use such a spell, but it was either that or let you meet your doom." She grimaced. "I am out of mana, and the undead army continues to rise. The demon means to destroy everything. We must end this now, we cannot wait for the mages."

I struggled to speak, trying to rise above the pain. "B-But…"

"For once, I will not disagree," Leliana said. "You cannot fight like this, and if we wait much longer, there will be nothing left to save."

I shook my head, my body shaking.

"I…I can't…" I stuttered. "No, you can't make me…I won't choose who has to be sacrificed!"

"You are going to have to," Morrigan said gravely. "Otherwise…"

She was cut off as a hail of arrows rained over us. Morrigan raised her staff, conjuring a shield, while Leliana pushed me behind her. Most skittered around us, but then Leliana shrieked. She sank to her knees, clutching her arm.

"Leliana!" I pushed myself upright, my own pain forgotten. An arrow had pierced her shoulder, and blood ran down her chest plate. There was no way she could use her bow now. My hands flew to my pouch, reaching for a poultice. "Maker's breath, let me heal you."

"Forget…about me," Leliana gasped, pushing the poultice aside. She forced herself to her feet. "End this, Elissa. We have…no more time!"

I stared, the horror slowly sinking in. My hopes for a bloodless resolution were dashed, and now I was forced to play a hand I didn't want. But if I didn't, I'd lose everything. My companions and the villagers couldn't last the night, and I could not let them risk so much when I had the means to save them.

"Morrigan, we go back to the keep, now." I helped Leliana stand. "You come as well. You're in no state to continue fighting."

Leliana nodded, and the three of us abandoned the battle. I caught Zevran in the chaos, and he gave an understanding nod. Ser Perth shouted after us, but I didn't look back. I could imagine what he was thinking, but I need them to hold on a little longer.

"Warden!" Bann Teagan's voice carried across the air. Moments later he stood with us, his face grim.

"I am sorry," I said, "but we cannot win against this many. We have to destroy the demon right now."

The Bann gave a slow nod. "I understand. Let us return to the castle."

We made our way up the hill, our progress slowed by mine and Leliana's injuries. At last the bridge came in sight. Isolde stood at the gate, anxious and afraid.

"I cannot reach Connor," she said. "Is all lost?"

"Not yet," I said. "But we can't wait for the Mages." I swallowed, looking her square in the eye. "We have to deal with this another way."

"Then there is no question." Isolde stood tall. "Bring Jowan to the chamber and use my blood for the ritual."

"Isolde…" the Bann began.

"I will bear all responsibility for this disaster," Isolde cut him off. "And I will not see Connor harmed. I want him to live the life he deserves, the life I tried to preserve and ended up taking from him. This is the only way I will let you end this."

I swallowed the bile in my throat. I hadn't wanted it to come to this. But if one life could save so many others…

"So be it," I said.

The Bann nodded. "Very well. I will fetch Jowan."

* * *

 

I sat on the steps to the hearth, resting my head on my knees. The burn on my arm had been bandaged, but that dull ache was nothing compared to the nausea in my stomach. Before me Isolde's body lay limp, her blood still pooling on the floor. Morrigan lay beside her, breathing deep and even. Jowan was slumped in the corner, overlooked by two guards, while the Bann paced between the tables. He didn't look at me, and for good reason. Already my head was burning with doubts. Isolde would not have let me lay a finger on Connor, and had accepted death so willingly, yet still I wondered. What else could I have done? Should I have remained fighting, buying Alastair and Wynne the time I'd promised? Could I have evacuated the survivors instead of leaving them in the Chantry?

Could I have been spared the blood on my hands?

Leliana touched my shoulder, her eyes sympathetic. Her left arm was in a sling, her skin still stained with dried blood. It would be some time before either of us would wield weapons again, and that deepened my guilt. While I sat here in the fortified keep, everyone else was at the mercy of those monsters. Ser Perth, Sten, Zevran, Oghren, Duke, please hold on.

Suddenly Morrigan stirred, and everyone's gaze shot to her. She rose to a sitting positon, and her eyes opened.

"It is done," she said. "The demon is slain."

The Bann's eyes lit up.

"I must find Connor at once." He hurried towards the bedchambers, leaving us in the firelight. Morrigan rose to her feet, dusting her shoulders. Giving her arms a stretch, she sauntered towards us, brow raised.

"Why so melancholy, Warden?" she asked. "The boy and the village are saved. This was what we aimed for, was it not?"

I let out a long breath. "I would have preferred to spare Isolde as well."

"You did what you had to," Leliana said. "This was not your fault."

Her words echoed in my head. Not my fault directly, perhaps, yet I could not deny the part I'd played. If only there had been more time.

Footsteps sounded from the corridor, and I looked up. The Bann had returned, looking deeply relieved.

"Connor is his normal self," he said. "I have put him to bed. He seems to recall nothing." He glanced sadly to Isolde. "He must not know of this." He nodded to the guards. "Please assist me with Isolde. She must be given proper rights."

Nodding, the guards stepped forward. One gathered Isolde's lifeless form in his arms and lifted her up. The Bann came to her, closing her eyes and folding her hands across her chest. Leliana bowed, whispering a prayer for the departed.

However, as they made to walk away, the rattle of armour caught my ear. I turned, looking to the main doors, then wished I hadn't.

Alastair stood on the threshold, his gaze fixed on Isolde's body. Blackened blood stained his armour, and he sported several new cuts. Wynne, First Enchanter Irving and several other mages were behind him, they too stunned by the sight.

Alastair finally found his voice. "What in Andraste's name happened?!"

"I'm so sorry, Alastair," I said, unable to meet his gaze. "We tried our best, but the demon sent out another assault. They almost overran the Chantry."

"Had we not acted the entire village would have been wiped out, and us along with them," Leliana added. "But Connor and the village are now free."

Alastair didn't answer. He could only stare in disbelief. Wynne came forward and touched his shoulder, but he didn't even acknowledge her. The sickness in my stomach redoubled. I had not seen him like this since our escape from Ostagar.

"Forgive us, Warden." First Enchanter Irving stepped forward. "The Darkspawn attacked out of no-where just before we reached the village. It took us too long to drive them off."

"Too many things conspired against us," Bann Teagan said. "But know Isolde gave her life willingly, for the sake of her son and for the village. I will make sure her memory not be forgotten."

I was hardly listening, my heart wrenched with guilt. I couldn't even look at Alastair anymore. I'd promised him I'd wait, that I'd save them all. Even in the darkest shadows of the Deep Roads and the deepest labyrinths of the Fade, I'd never let him down. I'd always forged our path and emerged victorious. Yet now I'd failed in the most terrible way possible. And all because I wasn't strong enough.

Maker, forgive me.


	5. Chapter 5

A cold silence hung over the dawn as we helped the villagers make preparations for the dead. As was custom in Redcliffe, the bodies would be laid in boats, then pushed out to burn on the lake. Despite my wounds I busied myself with the work, wanting to blot out what happened the day before. Isolde herself was kept in the castle mortuary, as she would be buried in the family vault. I had been to pay my final respects, but I had not been able to remain for long. Just seeing her disfigured body was too much.

I rose from the last boat, which held a young child and his mother. He lay in her arms, as if asleep, and I briefly closed my eyes. A happy future snuffed out before it even had the chance to begin. Just like Oriana and Oren, and so many others…

I crossed back to the dock, looking over the 'fleet'. I swallowed. There were more than I'd thought. The village had been truly devastated, but as I watched the survivors comfort one another, I sensed a flicker of hope. They would get through this. The question was, would I?

"Are you alright?"

I looked up. Leliana was leaning against a nearby house, arms folded. She'd been watching me again.

"I'll live," I said.

"That was not what I asked." Leliana stepped towards me. "You're exhausted."

"I am hardly alone in that." I brushed off her concern. "The villagers have suffered far more than me, you should worry about them."

"Suffering is not a competition," Leliana argued. "You are pushing yourself, Elissa. Don't forget I was there as well. I know how awful it was to watch Isolde…"

"I don't want to talk about it!" I snapped. Leliana blinked, taken aback. "Please."

I walked away before she could reply. I knew she only meant to be supportive, but every mention of the Arlessa brought the memory back. Already it was forming in my mind. That unseen force striking her helpless body, her lifeless eyes, the blood that splattered the cold stone floor…

I had to stop at the Chantry, burying my face in my hands. The trembling wouldn't stop, and I cursed. Why in the Maker's name was this so hard to bear? I had not mourned the slain Mages, nor the slaughter of Oghren's entire House like this. I had barely known Isolde for more than a few days, yet I felt like I'd lost my family all over again. Everything I could've done differently was a deafening echo in my mind. I should have fought harder, planned better, reacted faster; the same thoughts that haunted me when I'd left my burning home at Highever.

Had I learned nothing?

"Warden, do you have a moment?"

I stiffened, not expecting Ser Perth's address. Slowly, I lowered my hands, letting my mask set in place. I had to keep control. A deep breath later, I turned to him.

"How may I help?" I asked.

"I have come to discuss an important matter," Ser Perth said. He did not seem to have noticed anything amiss. "May we speak in the Chantry?"

"Of course." I let him lead the way inside. Now the place of peace was empty, save for a few initiates who were tidying the pews.

"First, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart," Ser Perth said. "You are a very skilled warrior. Without you, Redcliffe would surely have been reduced to dust."

Bitterness rose in my throat. You thank me for killing your Arlessa…

"That is why I believe only you can save the Arl now," Ser Perth went on. "Isolde sent out many knights for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, but I fear Eamon's time grows short. We need help." He brought forth a leather-bound book. "One of my knights found these records written by a Chantry scholar named Genitivi in Denerim. It appears he disappeared searching for a village named Haven, where he thought the Ashes resided. Several of my men have followed his trail, but none have returned. It reeks of suspicion, and I have a feeling you may succeed where we have failed."

I raised a wary brow. "You want me to find the Ashes?"

"Yes," Ser Perth said. "If the Arl dies, Loghain's hold over Ferelden will be complete, and you will have no way to unite the remaining armies against the Blight. It will work in both our favours."

"Convenient," I murmured.

"Please do not take offense, Warden." Ser Perth's gaze softened. "I ask only because I have faith in you. The Arl is a good man, he has looked after his people and he is well respected amongst the nobles. He does not deserve this fate. That is all I ask you to consider."

I sighed. Nobody deserved any of this, and yet here we were. But I couldn't be so narrow-minded. I needed the Arl to stand against Loghain, and it had been Isolde's deepest wish to see her family safe and healthy again. I owed her that much at least.

"Very well," I said. "I will find the Ashes and return as swiftly as I can."

Ser Perth smiled. "Thank you, Warden." He handed me the records. "May the Maker bless your path."

We left the Chantry and headed back to the dock. The boats had been lined up and the archers were ready, burning tar pitchers at their feet. I stepped between Leliana and Duke, watching as pairs of young women started to push the boats out. The Revered Mother held out her hand, reciting a verse from the Chant of Light, as the archers set to their targets. I closed my eyes, calling out a silent prayer of my own. Maker, please guide them to their final rest.

Finally it was done. The archers discarded their bows, and the villagers shuffled back to their homes. I watched the smouldering remains float over the lake, until they were just hazy blurs. An image of Isolde's body flashed by, and I shuddered, tears not far behind.

"May the Maker bless their souls," Leliana said, unclasping her hands. Duke grunted, nuzzling my leg. "Shall we regroup with the others?"

I nodded, too afraid to speak. We headed to the main bridge, the awkward silence deepening. I bit my lip, trying to ignore her concerned glances. The sooner we could put this behind us, the better.

The rest of our group were waiting at the cliffs, eager to get going, but one remained absent.

"Where is Alastair?" I asked.

"Still in the castle," Wynne said. "He said he would not be long."

I folded my arms. Alastair had been avoiding me since his return from the tower. I could not blame him, but it still hurt. Yet another painful reminder of my failure. He and Isolde had never seen eye to eye, and now they never would. Because of me.

"Ah, there he is," Zevran said, raising a hand to his eyes. "Truly, with timekeeping like his, he puts even Antivan noblewomen to shame."

"Equally as busy sorting his make-up, no doubt," Morrigan mused.

I watched Alastair descend the hill, his shoulders squared. Bann Teagan walked beside him. They must have been discussing something personal.

"My apologies, Warden," the Bann said, bowing. "But I needed to discuss a few things with Alastair. I trust you've spoken to Ser Perth?"

"Yes," I said.

"Then I will let you be on your way," he said. "Maker watch over you."

He retreated to the village. I glanced to Alastair, but he refused to make eye contact.

"Right, well, let's be off then," Morrigan said, picking up on the uncomfortable atmosphere. "To the Elves, Warden?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid," I said. "Redcliffe may be saved, but the Arl is not out of danger. His only hope is the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and I've agreed to find them for him."

An uneasy murmur ran through the group. Sten scowled.

"You would have us chase after another useless distraction?" he rumbled. "Do you not care about the Darkspawn threat anymore?"

"I wouldn't have to do this if Loghain hadn't turned the kingdom against the Wardens," I shot back. "We'll need all our allies before we can win any battle against the Archdemon."

"Perhaps, but seeking out an ancient legend is a large gamble." Wynne seemed unusually wary. "Can we afford to hunt around in vain?"

"We won't be searching blind." I held up the book Ser Perth had given me. "I have a strong lead, and I owe it to the Arl to make him well again. We can set off immediately."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Zevran held up his hands. "You all seem to be complaining about lost time, yet we remain here like gossiping washerwomen. I say less talking and more walking."

"Agreed," Leliana added.

That seemed to quell any further questions, and we headed out of the village. Zevran caught my eye and he tapped his nose. I gave a nod, grateful for his help. Nonetheless, I felt the judgement of the others upon me, and it was uncomfortable. I had expected reluctance, but never from Wynne, and Alastair's silence hit harder than any enraged outburst. It seemed the cracks in my leadership were starting to show.

How long before it would rupture completely?

* * *

 

Night could not fall soon enough, and I was relieved when we stopped to set up camp. Of course I had not been naïve enough to think things would return to the way they were, but the new tension was unbearable. Alastair deliberately kept his distance, refusing to acknowledge me, and even Wynne had been more curt than usual. I kept telling myself I had more important things to worry about, yet their hostility cut deep. I had taken their trust for granted, and its absence was like an icy hole in my chest.

"Here." Leliana handed me a water flask. She had been quiet during the journey, taking to contemplation rather than conversation. However, the concern in her eyes had not diminished.

"Thank you." I took the flask and had a long swig. So preoccupied with my thoughts, I had not realised my thirst.

"You must not neglect yourself." Leliana's gaze lingered on my wrist. "How is your arm?"

"Slowly healing." I rubbed my bandaged burn. The skin was no longer raw, but it still ached. "You needn't worry. I will not overstep my limits. You should have your own wound seen too as well."

Leliana smiled, though worry still clouded it. It set off a pang of guilt, and I glanced aside. She had witnessed the same horror and was bursting to share her feelings, while I preferred to bury them inside. A troubling habit, perhaps, but one I could never seem to shake. What was the point of reliving that which I could not change? I had not spoken much of what happened at Highever or Ostagar, and this was no different. We would do better to focus on finding the Ashes.

I walked over to the fire, where Alastair was sitting. I took my place opposite, staring into the flames. Not a word or glance passed between us, and I sighed. To think that only a few nights ago he was smirking and laughing, desperate to prove his cooking was better than mine. Still, while I missed his banter, the best thing I could do was give him space. He would come to understand in time.

Or so I hoped.

A soft whine caught my ear, and I looked down. Duke pushed his nose into my lap, a small pouch in his mouth. I took it from him, inspecting its contents. It was a burn salve; one of Wynne's. I cast a look towards her tent, where she was tending to Leliana's shoulder. She didn't look my way, but I took some comfort from the gesture. As upset as she must have been, she still worried about me.

Carefully I unbuckled my gauntlet, then began to remove the bandage. Some skin snagged in the fabric, and I gritted my teeth. The burn itself wasn't looking so angry, but pulses of pain still shot up my arm. As I applied the cooling salve, I caught Alastair watching. The mask of anger had slipped, and he almost appeared concerned. He must not have realised my injury. I was tempted to try conversation, but my courage failed me. I did not want to make things worse.

With a fresh bandage applied, I picked up my gauntlet and retreated towards my tent. We had a long way to go, and my broken sleep had done me no favours. Soon I was settled on my bedroll, but my mind would not follow suit. Images of Isolde's death still haunted, and it was all I could do to force them away. It had been her decision, I repeated to myself. It was either her or Connor, and she would have defended her son to the end. My own mother had done no less for Father. No matter how I felt, it was their choice.

Again that foul word was at my lips, and I held my hands to my eyes, the tears falling freely.

When would I finally be free?

* * *

 

I was immersed in a maze of darkness. Slowly I wandered forward, but I had no idea where I was going. The shadows grasped at my legs, and I had to fight their hold. Their grip strengthened. I tried to run, but my muscles wouldn't respond. My feet started to sink, and I yelled, my voice snatched from my lungs. A terrifying screech shattered the darkness, and the visage of the Archdemon appeared. It towered over me, and I stared, unable to move. Its eyes glowed, and then it opened its jaws…

My eyes snapped open. The Darkspawn!

I shot out of my tent, dagger drawn. Duke's ears were pricked forward, and he growled. Zevran and Alastair remained by the fire, seemingly unaware.

"Forget something?" Zevran asked.

"Darkspawn," I said. "They're near."

Zevran's smile faded, and he immediately drew his weapons. Alastair followed suit, and for a brief moment our eyes met. I frowned. So he had sensed them as well. Then why hadn't he said anything?

Before I could dwell on it, a harsh cry came from the rear of the camp. Moments later a Darkspawn burst forth, followed by several others. Brandishing their blades and axes, they made straight for us.

Swearing, I ran to flank them. With only my dagger, I would have to take a rogue's approach. Sten ran to the front line, swinging his broadsword, and providing all the distraction I needed. I came up behind the first, sinking my blade into its neck. It dropped to the ground, but I was already onto my next victim. It too fell, causing the remaining Darkspawn to spread out. Sten and I exchanged a glance, then bolted in opposite directions. Zevran was in front of me, fending off three at once. With their backs turned, they were easy targets.

"Much appreciated, Warden!" Zevran called, finishing off the last one. We regrouped and faced the remaining creatures. Only five were left—two mages exchanging spells with Wynne and Morrigan, and three who Alastair was trying to take on alone.

"Leave the mages to me," Zevran proclaimed. "Your lack of dexterity might hinder you."

He ran off before I could argue. A curse was on my tongue, but I knew he was right. Without the use of my sword-arm, I was at a great disadvantage.

I studied the other Darkspawn. Alastair was surrounded. I needed to strike swiftly.

I broke into a sprint. I circled the Darkspawn, before plunging my dagger into the one at Alastair's back. It moaned and writhed, aiming its sword at me, but I grabbed its chest plate and threw it to the ground. My right hand shrieked, and I bit back a cry as I twisted my knife into its neck.

The second Darkspawn cackled. Its blade clipped my shoulder and I stumbled. Alastair was there in a flash. His shield smashed into its skull, but he had taken his eyes off his other opponent.

"Watch out!" I tackled Alastair to the ground as the Darkspawn broadsword cut into where he'd been standing. Quickly I recovered, kicking the creature and stabbing its eyes. The Darkspawn roared, and struck out blindly. The flat of its blade hit my ribs, and I was knocked back. Then Duke barked. He jumped onto the creature's chest and tore out its throat. Gurgling, it collapsed into a mess, and I held my arm, panting. Morrigan soon voiced her victory, and relief flood through me.

We were safe again, for now.

I looked back to Alastair, who was holding his leg. He seemed to have bruised it. I offered him my hand, but he took one look and turned away. Wincing, he rose to his feet alone. I scowled.

"Alastair, please, I don't want it to be like this between us."

Alastair huffed, deliberately averting his gaze. I sighed. "Look, I know words can't express how sorry I am for what happened, but…"

Alastair suddenly let out a dark laugh.

"Sorry?" he repeated. "You're sorry?" He clenched his fist. "You gave your word you'd save the Arl's family, that you'd wait for us, and then you went and turned Lady Isolde into a blood mage sacrifice!" He threw his shield to the ground. "You betrayed me in the deepest way possible, and all you can say is sorry?!"

My temper flared. Enough was enough.

"You think I did it on purpose?" I spat. "The undead army were unstoppable, the village on the verge of annihilation! I had to do something!"

"There were a hundred things you could've tried before that forsaken ritual!" Alastair shouted. "We'd fought the monsters off, you knew their weaknesses! Why didn't you hold on for us?"

The words were on my lips before I realised.

"Why didn't you return in time?"

Alastair grabbed my collar.

"How dare you try to pin this on me and Wynne!" His arms shook with rage. "We travelled as fast as we could, we did the four day journey in only two! We were right there just as you sent Isolde to her death! You should have waited. You promised me you'd wait!"

"So you would've let the undead slaughter the survivors we fought so hard to protect?" I snapped. I made him release me, and he glared. "You would've let them kill our friends for the sake of one woman who willingly accepted her fate?"

"Lady Isolde was not in the right frame of mind." Wynne suddenly stepped forward. Her gaze was icy. "She was too burdened by her own guilt. You should have reasoned with her." She shook her head. "Yet instead you panicked and pushed her into the ritual. Something I never thought you would have considered. We could have saved them all."

Her words were like hammer blows, rending cracks through my resolve.

"It…It was impossible," I whispered, my voice failing. "I…I had to do it…"

"You had no right to use her," Alastair went on, "no right to force her into giving up her life. And you had no right to give up on us." His eyes were unforgiving. "You're nothing but a murderer, Elissa, and I won't ever let you forget that!"

His final words pierced deep, and I had to look away. My hands were shaking. Both he and Wynne had spoken aloud the doubt inside me, and I could not refute it. No matter the excuses I made, it had been me who'd sent Isolde to her death. I had turned my back on Alastair and Wynne, deciding they had failed without consideration. I had made the wrong choice, broken my promise and betrayed their trust. Who was to say I would not make the same mistake again? How many others would I endanger through my carelessness?

How many had I already endangered…

"…so be it." My anger fell away. "I did not ask to become mediator to the failings of everyone in Ferelden. It is not my duty to right the wrongs of those who cannot face their own truth." I turned away. "If my judgement is no longer good enough, then I'll give it out no more."

I began to walk out of camp.

"Wait, where are you going!?" Alastair bellowed.

"That is not your business." I didn't look back. "Fight for Ferelden on your own, Grey Warden."

"What?" Leliana cried. I heard footsteps rush, and her fingers grabbed mine, forcing me to look at her. "Elissa, what's come over you?" Her eyes were pleading, begging. "We need you! You can't just turn your back on the world!"

"Like it's turned its back on me?" I shook her off. "I lost everything! My family, my home, my name, yet everyone expects me to end the Blight and every calamity we come across!" Hot tears prickled behind my eyes. "I can't do this. I won't do this. It is not my responsibility!"

I broke into a run, not caring for Leliana's protesting shouts, nor the tears pouring down my face.

I would be chained to Ferelden's future no longer.


	6. Chapter 6

The noise and stench of the Gnawed Noble were a welcome distraction as I collapsed into a corner, my legs numb. It had been a hard journey, but I’d finally made it. I’d had mixed thoughts about where to go, yet in the end Denerim had won out. There was no place for me in the Circle Tower or Orzammar, and I certainly couldn’t show my face in Redcliffe. Denerim also had the added bonus of being right under Loghain’s nose. He would never think to look for a Grey Warden here.

 _Warden_ …I clasped the pendant around my neck. Like the title meant anything now. I’d cast it aside, though unfortunately I couldn’t do the same for the taint in my blood. I shook my head. It was ironic; before I knew the truth, the idea of joining the Order had been very tempting. I had been so eager to prove myself, to step out of my brother’s shadow and make my mark on the world. Never realising the true burden I would come to inherit.

A loud cheer echoed across the tavern, and a pair of drunken mercenaries lumbered out. One groped a waitress, and she smacked his hand away. He swore, calling out a few insults, then turned to me.

“Over ‘ere,” he slurred, leaning over my table. “Don’ you wanna sit in my lap?”

“No thanks.” His breath reeked of ale, and it was all I could do not to grimace.

“I can change your mind, beautiful.” He proceeded to drape his arm around me. I deftly slid aside, but his comrade grabbed my arm. “C’mon, give Baz a kiss.”

Snarling, I elbowed the mercenary holding me. He let go, and I lost no time punching ‘Baz’ in the face. He groaned, blood pouring from his nose. Before he could react, I snatched his wrist and twisted it behind his back. He yelped, his face crumpling.

“Oi!” The other mercenary made to draw his sword, but my dagger came to his throat first. He stared, raising his hands in surrender.

“Why don’t you enjoy a walk outside?” I encouraged. “You might have better luck.”

The mercenary with the bloody nose nodded vigorously. I released his hand, but not before throwing him into the table. Scowling, he scrambled to his feet, and his companion dragged him out. Their look of disdain was not lost, and I bit my lip. That had been foolish of me. It would be prudent not to linger, in case they returned with ‘reinforcements’.

As I made to stand, however, slow clapping reached my ears. I looked to the bar, and my eyes widened. Of all people…

“I see you have not completely lost yourself,” Morrigan said. She rose and walked towards me. I frowned. “Though one has to wonder why you can stand up to these louts and not our dim-witted ex-Templar and his Circle lapdog.”

“Why are you here, Morrigan?” I asked. “Surely _he_ didn’t send you to bring me back.”

“In that you are correct,” Morrigan answered. She traced a finger around her chin. “I am merely, how shall I put this… _curious_.”

I folded my arms, wondering if I was going to like what she had to say.

“Throughout our little jaunt across Ferelden, you have made some very tough decisions,” Morrigan stated. “You did not fall to the Templar’s over-reaction about the Circle, nor succumb to the temptations of the Sloth demon. Not to mention how you handled every situation the Dwarves threw at you. I must admit I had never seen such consistent resolve. T’was refreshing, and dare I say it even impressive. And after your assurances, I felt for sure Redcliffe would be no different.”

My memories stirred. Was that why she had challenged me that day?

“And yet all it takes is one childish tantrum and you throw yourself to the four winds,” Morrigan went on. She sat on my table, brow raised. “I am simply stunned that the woman who could face down a legion of abominations, who defeated a Dwarven Paragon no less, could be reduced to _this_.”

I scoffed.

“You of all people should understand why I left,” I said. “You’ve seen it with your own eyes. The kingdom bickers amongst itself, incapable of decisive action, and always it falls to me to solve its problems. Each time I must ensure a happy outcome, and Maker forbid I make a mistake…”

“That never deterred you before,” Morrigan interrupted. “You think I believe you did not consider how your actions would affect the Templars, or those who refused your appointed Dwarven King? Only a fool would be so ignorant.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “So why the sudden surge in cowardice?”

I stood up. I did not have to listen to this.

“I already told you,” I said. “It is not my responsibility. Not anymore.”

I slid past Morrigan, making for the exit. She made no move to stop me.

“Running away is not the answer, either,” she abruptly called out. “But if this is how you respond to conflict now, perhaps t’ is best you’ve stepped down. Ferelden needs a fearless leader, not a recreant little girl.”

I stormed out of the tavern, jaw clenched. Part of me screamed to turn back and put that irritating apostate in her place, but I pushed those thoughts aside. I had caused enough trouble, and I would not give her the satisfaction of rising to her bait. Still, she had been the last person I expected to trail me. I did not know whether to be flattered or afraid. Yet whatever her intentions, she was wasting her time. Alastair was as much a Grey Warden as I; he could gather the remaining armies and lead them against the Blight.

They did not need me.

A cold breeze blew, and I looked around the square. It was late evening, and the merchants were starting to pack up. The earlier rush had also slowed to almost nothing, and I swallowed. That was not good, as I was very aware how out of place I looked. Most women would not travel alone at this hour, and certainly not bearing arms as I was. I needed to find a more secluded hideaway.

Watchful of the shadows, I headed further inside the city. So far there was no sign of the mercenaries, but I kept a hand on my dagger nonetheless. Quite the contrast to when I’d visited with Mother and Father all those years ago. Father had come for some important gathering, leaving Mother and I to explore the shops. It had been a bright summer morning, the streets brimming with crowds, and I’d been most interested in the armouries. All day I’d begged and begged, until Mother bought me an ornate dagger. It was the first weapon I could call my own, and I’d spent many months practicing with it. Even now I could still picture its bone hilt and fine edge. Maker knew what had become of it, buried somewhere in the ruins of my home. Never to be seen again…

“Hey, where are you going?”

I stopped dead. A soldier had been watching. He approached, and I cursed. I should have paid more attention.

“You look familiar.” He held a hand to his bearded chin. “Wait, aren’t you a Grey Warden?”

My heart skipped a beat.

“I’m sorry, you must be mistaken,” I said.

The soldier peered closer, and sweat began to pool in my palms. Maker, don’t let him recognise me.

“You _are_ a Warden,” he snarled. “I was there at Ostagar. I saw what you did. You sent the King to his death!” He drew his sword. “This is for King Cailan!”

Swearing, I bolted into the alleys. I tore over the cobbled path, trying to take a winding route. But the lack of light and familiarity with the city took a toll on my speed. No matter how many steps I took, the rattle of armour was constantly behind me. Come on, there had to be a way to lose him!

I veered left, hoping to cut through to the next street, when I almost collided with a gate. It was a dead end. I spun round, starved for breath. The soldier was already there, blocking my escape. He sneered, raising his sword. I gritted my teeth, pulling my dagger free. I hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but…

The soldier suddenly groaned. He collapsed onto the ground, motionless but still breathing. Frantically I looked around, but there was no sign of anyone else. My grip tightened on my dagger hilt. As I peered again, however, I picked out a tufted dart that had found a gap in the soldier’s armour.

At once I snapped my head up. A dark blur caught my eye on a nearby rooftop, but it swiftly vanished. I didn’t wait and began running again. I had no allies here; whoever had decided to help probably wanted me for something else. Maker’s breath, maybe Denerim hadn’t been as safe as I’d thought.

The streets started to open out again, and I found myself in one of the slums. I rested under a shadowed archway, catching my breath. The air was heavy, and I glanced at the sodden gutters. My options for spending the night were becoming very limited. I needed to get back to the square. Perhaps I might have more luck at the Chantry.

No sooner had I thought this than new voices caught my ear. I huddled into a small alcove, forcing my breathing to still.

“…paying enough for it.” I caught a man’s deep baritone, and he was walking with someone else. Both wore leather armour which had an insignia stamped on the shoulder plate. Mercenaries, but not the same ones I had upset in the tavern.

“I’m not so sure about this,” the other man said, adjusting his bow. “The amount she’s offering for one little Orlesian red-head? She’s got to be more trouble than she’s worth.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” the first mercenary scoffed. “We’d have to work three jobs to get this much usually.”

“But she’s hanging around Grey Wardens,” his companion protested. “I don’t think we should get involved. Not after what happened at Ostagar.”

“So we’ll deal with the Wardens,” the first man assured. “It’s not like…”

Their voices died down, but my curiosity had been stirred. It sounded like those men were speaking about my companions. It could just have been my paranoia, but why else would they specifically mention the Wardens? Furthermore, there was only one Orlesian red-head that fitted their description, and that unsettled me.

Why would they target Leliana?

I slipped out of the alcove and began to follow the men. I had to know what this was about. If Leliana was in danger...

They took a careful route, crossing into the southern part of the city. I kept a good distance, afraid my creaking armour would give me away. As Leliana often teased, I was definitely no rogue. The thought rekindled an ache in my chest, but I forced it away. I could not afford to become distracted.

Eventually the men stopped at a derelict warehouse. The windows were cracked, the brickwork soiled and girders rotting. It seemed as good a hideout as any. I watched as they were let inside, before the door was bolted shut behind them. I slammed my fist against my thigh. So much for that.

However, as I continued to watch, I caught flickering candlelight behind the windows. The quiet murmur of voices was still apparent, and I clasped my chest. There was still a chance to get information. Quickly I checked the alley, before hurrying to the side of the building. I crouched under the broken window, listening.

“Have you found her yet?” A woman’s voice. I could have sworn she had an Orlesian accent.

“We’ve come to report on that,” one of the mercenaries stated. “She’s left Redcliffe and is heading west towards a village called Haven. We’ve got three of our best on her trail. They should cross paths within the next few days.”

“Good, good,” the woman said. “Are the Grey Wardens still with her?”

“One is,” the mercenary said. “The female Warden seems to have gone missing.”

“Missing, you say?” the woman repeated. “How very convenient.”

“Why so worried?” the mercenary asked. “It’s one less problem to worry about. You said you only wanted the red-head, didn’t you?”

“I would expect such stupid arrogance from a Ferelden dog,” the woman spat. “I cannot understand how this kingdom is able to _function_ at all…”

I caught a door closing, and everything fell silent. I remained motionless, pressed against the cold stone. Just who was this woman, and how did she know so much about us?

I could not ponder for long. A skitter from the rooftops caught my ears, and I looked up. Suddenly something struck the back of my head, and blinding pain tore through my skull. I caught the glint of steel, and then the world went black.

* * *

 

When I woke again, I was sitting in a darkened room. My arms, torso and legs were tied to the chair, and I’d been stripped of my sword and dagger. A pulsing headache throbbed behind my eyes, and I screwed them shut. By the Maker, what hit me…

“Ah, you’re awake.”

My head snapped up, sending a bolt of pain through my skull. I winced, my vision clouded. Slowly the haze cleared, and I caught sight of an unfamiliar woman. She had typical Orlesian features and shoulder-length brown hair. Her simple clothing made her seem harmless enough, but instinct told me to be very, very wary.

“You’re not too clever for a Warden,” the woman said, her lips forming a sickly smile. “Perhaps the taint in your blood clouds your mind as well?”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Now now, why should I make it so easy?” the woman tutted. “Who I am is not important. But I know all about you, Elissa Cousland.”

I froze.

“What I do not _quite_ understand is how you knew where to find me,” the woman went on. “Did my nightingale send you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I snapped.

“Aie, must we do this the difficult way?” the woman sighed. “You are a warrior, Warden, not a bard. Do not pretend you know how to play our game. Now tell me, how did my Leliana know where to send you?”

“She didn’t send me,” I said, although inside I was shaking. So the mercenaries _had_ been targeting her. “She doesn’t even know I’m here. Now release me.”

“Is that so?” the woman cooed. She did not look convinced. “Hmm, well then, perhaps we may be able to strike a deal. Although I will require a guarantee on my part.”

She disappeared into a back room, then returned with a small knife and a bottle.

“I will let you go,” she said, “if you to take a message to my Leliana.” She uncorked the bottle and dipped the blade inside. A thick purple substance coated the tip, and my eyes widened. She strode towards me, and I tensed against my bonds. It was no use. She forced my palm open and sliced through the skin. I cried out. It was not a deep cut, but the wound burned madly.

“Tell her that if she wants to be rid of me, she should not send lackeys to do her dirty work.” She patted my shoulder. “Now, you had best reach her quickly, Warden. It will be eight days before the poison stops your heart.”

“You _bitch_!” I strained again, only to be struck in the face. Pain rang through my cheek, and tears spilled from my eyes.

“Dear Maker, you Ferelden women have such foul tongues.” The woman shook her head. “Do they teach you no etiquette here? You should be grateful I am even giving you such a chance.” She gave a soft laugh. “Good luck.”

She left the room. For a moment I remained still, sweat pooling on my brow. Then my rage returned, and I screamed, thrashing against my restraints.

Eight days…eight _days_?!

I gripped the arms of the chair, rocking and twisting as hard as I could. I’d tear the whole thing to pieces. Eventually the wooden legs cracked, and a few thrashes and kicks later I felt the ropes loosen. I pulled my left hand free, and made short work of the rest of my bonds. Brushing off the splinters of wood, I ran through to the other room. There was no sign of the woman, but my sword and dagger had been left on a table. Odd.

I went to reclaim them, when a surge of nausea overwhelmed me. I dropped to my knees, the bile rising in my throat. Next thing I knew, my mouth filled with saliva and I was violently sick.

Finally my stomach was empty, and I held my chest. Maker, that _hurt_. Groaning, I staggered upright, and I had to lean on the table for support. My scathed hand prickled, and I banged my fist. That crafty Orlesian witch! I would make her pay dearly for this. But I was in no state to seek revenge just yet. She had put a countdown on my life, and on Leliana’s as well. I needed to warn her and find an antidote for myself.

Sheathing my weapons, I hurried through the building. The ache in my hand pulsed with my steps, and I gritted my teeth.

I’d put a stop to this madness before it cost both of us our lives.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: very mild attempted rape scene (implied)

“I’m sorry.” The woman behind the counter turned away. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“You can’t be serious!” I spluttered, slamming my hands down. “Every poison has an antidote! You must have something that can help?”

“I wish it were that simple,” the woman answered. “But I cannot even identify what you were poisoned with. Giving another potion will more than likely make it worse. You will have to ask elsewhere.”

My temper blazed, but I bit back my angry retort. It was not the poor woman’s fault. Whoever was after Leliana was highly skilled, and it had been my folly to go against her so blindly. Maker knew how many times she must have inflicted this punishment—a method as tried and tested as my own sword strikes. And whatever the outcome, she would win.

Sighing, I muttered a farewell and left the apothecary. The skies had clouded over, matching my mood, and the scent of moisture promised rain. I took longer strides, making a beeline for the city gates. I had already wasted half a day trawling herbalist after herbalist, and none of them had been any use. My only chance now was to track down Leliana and hope she’d know what I’d been afflicted with. The problem was, she was probably in Haven by now, and if it took more than eight days to reach her…

I quashed the thought before it could end. No, I would not allow that to happen. I had only myself to blame, and mulling over the worst possible outcome would not get me anywhere. It would be a difficult journey, but I knew the roads well, and my taint would help me avoid the Darkspawn. That should hopefully be enough to reach the village in time.

Abruptly a twinge ran up my arm, and I clutched my bandaged hand. A wave of dizziness followed, and I had to pause. Sweat trickled down my back, and I backed against a wall, the ache in my muscles returning. Ugh, this would be the third time today. I gripped the stone, desperate for the shaking to stop. By the Maker, all I wanted to do was lie down and close my eyes. But if I gave in, I would never get up again.

Teeth clenched, I forced myself to stand. My legs protested, but I battled through and started to walk. I could not afford to wait whenever this happened; I would lose too much time. The fever continued to ravage, and my poisoned hand burned. I clenched my fingers, holding my arm against my side. I had to keep moving.

By the time I reached the city gates, I felt like I had run a marathon. My legs and back were aching, so I halted and looked around. The way was packed with wagons, mounts and people, all eager to get outside. The guards were struggling to maintain lines, and I licked my parched lips. No matter how ill I was, this was my only chance. When their backs were turned, I slipped into the madness and edged towards freedom. Still, my wavering steps, along with the jostling crowd, made progress slow. More than a few stray elbows caught me, and I struggled to keep my balance.

“Out of my way!” A tall mercenary shoved me aside. I staggered, catching myself against a cart. The jolt made my muscles scream, and I hissed. As I made to right myself, another soldier appeared. His nose was black and bruised, and my eyes widened. For the love of Andraste…

I tried to flee into the crowd again, but I was too slow. The mercenary shouted to his comrade.

“Hey, it’s her!” He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me into the cart. I groaned, as the other soldier flanked me. I was quickly relieved of my weapons, and his mouth twisted into a dark grin.

“You don’t look so good, my dear,” he sneered. “Why don’t you let me and Baz help you out?”

He grabbed my injured hand, and I couldn’t stop my howl.

“Let…go…” My voice was little more than a rasp.

“Aw, hurts that much, does it?” He drew me closer, and cold steel pressed against the back of my neck. “Believe me, by the time we’re done, you’ll know what real pain feels like!”

I fought to pull away, but his hold was like iron, and I had little chance without my blades. His companion snatched my shoulder, and they dragged me out of the city. A few people stared, but I didn’t dare shout for help. The guards would recognise me, alert Loghain, and I’d be thrown straight into Fort Drakon. Andraste curse this poison! If this damn sickness would just wear _off…_

The moment we left the gates, the mercenaries marched me off the main road and into the nearby trees. By now my legs had almost given up, but the soldiers did not relent on their pace. They followed a trail deep into the woodlands, and I caught the trickle of a gushing stream. At last we came to a clearing, and I was unceremoniously dumped to the ground. The impact redoubled the pain, and I clenched my teeth. Then a hard boot kicked me in the ribs, and I yelped.

“So she does make some noise!” ‘Baz’ laughed. He made to kick me again, but I rolled aside. Before I could rise, his companion grabbed my hair. I forced back my scream as he hauled me to my feet. He started to unfasten my armour straps.

“Must be some pristine skin under all that,” he said. “Can’t wait to give it a taste…”

The first buckle came loose, and I swung my free arm. He caught my wrist, then pinned me against a tree trunk. Tears prickled my eyes; Morrigan’s lightning burn had still not fully healed.

“Your silly tricks won’t work this time,” the mercenary growled. He raked his fingers over my exposed shoulder. I kept still, my innards churning, and not just from the poison. Another strap came free, and his hand groped my breast. Every part of me screamed to fight back, but I forced the urge away. Not yet.

Finally the mercenary ripped my armour away. I slipped my arms free, then ducked, slamming my shoulder into his knees. He fell backwards, and I bolted into the trees. Baz snarled, taking chase, his knife drawn. Adrenaline helped push away the pain, but I knew it wouldn’t last long, so I scrambled up the nearest tree. Baz followed. I threaded across to the adjacent trunk, when he grasped my ankle. I swore; he was a better climber than he looked.

At the same moment, a flash of darkness crossed my vision. It was followed by a shriek, and a chill ran up my spine. My reaction was short-lived, though, as Baz yanked my leg. I fell through the branches, scraping my arms and tearing my shirt, and he held me against the trunk, his knife at my throat.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He forced his lips against mine. I wanted so much to spit in his mouth, but instead I stilled, feigning defeat. He pressed into me harder, and the pressure on my neck lessened. With the last of my strength, I braced against the trunk, then kicked forward. My heels connected with Baz’s stomach, and we fell. The remaining boughs clipped my face, and I landed awkwardly on a tree root.

Winded, I crawled to a sitting position. My side was sore, but it seemed the shock had finally snapped the poison’s hold. Baz was a few feet away, unconscious, and his face was sodden with blood. His companion was shouting, charging towards me. Cursing, I grabbed the discarded knife and stood my ground.

The mercenary lunged, using my own dagger. I blocked it with my gauntlet, then whirled round, sending him into another tree. With his back turned, I grabbed the straps of his chest-plate and slammed him into the ground. His arm got caught between a gnarled root, and I drove my knife into his thigh. He screamed, but was soon silenced as I stomped my foot on his chest.

“E-Enough!” He tossed my dagger and sword aside. “D-Don’t kill me!”

My eyes narrowed. Tempting as it was to run him through, it would be wiser not to leave a trail of bodies so close to Denerim. Nonetheless, if that vision was anything to go by…

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” I backed off and reclaimed my weapons. “The Darkspawn might not be so merciful, though.”

“What?!”

The rest of his words were lost as I was already running towards the stream. I had to get away before the Darkspawn caught up.

The moment I reached the water, the first patters of rain began to fall. It did not take long before it became a full downpour. My boots sank into the mud, and a low rumble of thunder echoed above. I grimaced; I had to get a move on. The clouds blazed with lightning, and then an ear-piercing howl came from my left.

Suddenly a Darkspawn Shriek emerged. It flung its claws at me, and I threw up my blades, raindrops pelting my eyes. The creature bawled, trying to disentangle itself, but I gritted my teeth and threw myself into its side. It fell backwards into the stream, and I swept my sword across its forearms. It screamed, blackened blood pouring from its severed claws. Leaving it to thrash helplessly, I sheathed my weapons and hurried upstream. My soaked shirt clung to my skin, and I fought back my shivers. Maker’s breath, this was going to really slow me down.

Another cry broke out, and I slowed, raising a hand to my eyes. Shadows were moving through the rain, and a mix of grunts and growls came from all directions. I backed away from the water, readying my sword and dagger. There was no hope of fleeing this battle. If I wanted escape, I would have to carve my way out.

Thunder pealed once more, followed by the yells of charging Darkspawn. At last they appeared, and I headed straight into their lines. The sooner I could cut them down, the sooner I could leave. The first few were no challenge, but then a deafening roar rang through the forest. The ground trembled, and then a huge ogre appeared, ripping trees aside as if they were twigs. It grabbed a nearby trunk, before it threw it at me. I dived to the mud, narrowly avoiding being crushed. I pushed myself upright, but the banks were very slippery and it was hard to keep my footing.

The ogre stormed forward, brandishing another tree. I made to flank it, but my boots were stuck fast. The tremors deepened and I got a foot free, but by then the ogre was upon me. It screeched, raising the trunk, and I braced my sword.

A whisper of movement caught my ear, and the ogre abruptly bellowed. An arrow had struck its eye. It discarded its improvised club and grabbed the shaft, ripping it free. Then a further flurry came, and I used the distraction to get clear. The ogre screamed.

“For our Ancestors!” a voice shouted, and I caught the glisten of an axe. Seconds later a group of dwarves ran out from the undergrowth, chanting battle cries as they set upon the ogre. As the beast tried to swat them away, I dragged myself out of the mud and sprinted behind it. My sword found flesh between the rusted plates of armour, and the ogre fell onto its knees. I hacked my way onto its back, seeking its weak point. The ogre reached around, making to pull me off, but the dwarves were faster, focusing their attacks on its arms. Finally I found the spot at the base of its neck, and drove my blade inside.

The ogre roared, and all the power in its muscles faded. It collapsed onto its front, its head submerged below the stream. The dwarves cheered, and I had to smile as well, pulling my sword free. That had been close. My triumph was not to last, though, as a rigor tore through me. I doubled over, holding my arms around myself. Maker, it was so _cold_ …

“Over here!” A dwarf jumped onto the ogre’s corpse. “Warden, what’s going on? Where are the rest of your comrades?”

I tried to answer, but my exhaustion was too much and I blacked out.

* * *

 

When I woke again, I was lying inside the entrance to a cave. A small fire blazed beside me, and my weapons had been stacked against the wall. The storm had not slowed, but at least I was sheltered from the worst of it. I sat up, and my muscles groaned. Wincing, I rubbed my shoulders, inspecting my surroundings. Nobody else was around, but I caught supply packs and spare armour in the corner. The dwarves must have brought me here, thank the Maker.

I shuffled closer to the fire, taking stock of my injuries. Apart from some additional scrapes and bruises, I hadn’t fared too badly. Still, with my lost armour and torn shirt, not to mention the fever attacks, I would not get very far like this. I buried my head in my hands, the bandages rough against my cheeks. Why had I been so careless?

Footsteps and chinking armour caught my ear, and I looked outside. A group of dwarves were making their way up the path, carrying a slain deer between them. Their leader raised their hand.

“Greetings, Warden!” He stepped into the shelter of the rocks, shaking rainwater from his armour. “I am Thalinar, commander of House Etora. How are you feeling?”

“About as well as I can be, given the circumstances,” I answered. “How did you find me?”

“We’ve been tracking that Darkspawn patrol for a few days now,” Thalinar said. “They attacked us near Lake Calanhad and stole a lot of our supplies. We thought they were heading to the Brecilian Forest, when suddenly they made right for Denerim.”

“I see.” I fingered the pendant at my neck. “They must have sensed me.”

“We figured as much,” Thalinar said. “Didn’t expect to find you out there alone, though. What happened to the rest of your friends?”

I hesitated, wracking my brain for a plausible excuse.

“I…I had some personal business in Denerim,” I eventually said. “I didn’t see the point of delaying the others, so they are still carrying out our mission. I was planning to catch up with them.”

“Fair enough.” Thalinar nodded. His gaze lingered on my bandaged hand. “But it looks like you ran into some trouble?”

“You could say that,” I replied, bringing my hand to my chest. It had started to throb again.

“Maybe we can help,” Thalinar offered. He turned to the rest of the dwarves. “Neraka, can you take a look at the Warden’s hand?”

Another dwarf came forward. She had auburn hair, and her belt was brimming with pouches. She must have been their healer.

“May I?” she asked kindly.

Nodding, I peeled away the bandage and let her inspect the scar on my palm. I hadn’t really looked at the wound much, but now I could see dark spirals tracing towards my wrist. They hadn’t been there this morning. Neraka murmured to herself, fumbling in her pouches. Eventually she opened one and tipped some white powder onto my wound. I flinched; it was like being stabbed with ice. Her eyes widened.

“By the Ancestors, this is Black Locust Venom,” she breathed. I didn’t like her expression. “When did you get struck with it?”

“Yesterday.”

Neraka whistled through her teeth.

“What’s the problem, girl?” Thalinar asked. “Spit it out!”

Neraka shook her head. “Warden, you don’t have a lot of time left.”

“I’m aware of that,” I said, not hiding my annoyance. “So how can I cure myself?”

“That’s just it, you can’t.”

I stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“The Black Locust plant is not native to Ferelden, and its cure is even more exotic,” Neraka went on. “I have some herbs that can slow its progress, but at the most it would give you another four or five days. Not long enough to reach Orlais, or someone who might have the antidote already.”

I pulled my hand away, bitterness rising in my throat. This couldn’t be…after everything I’d been through, surviving my family, the Joining and the coup at Ostagar, after facing demons, Darkspawn and undead alike, I was to be defeated by a mere _poison_?!

Was this my punishment for murdering Isolde?

“I’m so sorry.” Neraka bowed her head. “It would take a miracle to save you now.”

“Ferelden will need a miracle too, if we are to lose a Warden like this!” Thalinar rumbled. “Is there truly nothing else that can be done?”

Neraka said nothing. For a long moment we remained in silence, the echoes of thunder and rain filling the emptiness. I glared at the fire, the flames mirroring my own rage. How had I managed to throw everything away so quickly? So much had been taken from me already, but to have the last piece of control over my life snatched as well…

“Perhaps all is not lost,” I said, slowly rising to my feet.

“What do you mean?” Thalinar asked.

“You say I need a miracle,” I said, picking up my weapons. “Such a miracle exists in Andraste’s Urn of Sacred Ashes. It is said to heal any ailment. That is what my companions are searching for, and the sooner I can catch up to them, the better.” I turned to Neraka. “Thank you for identifying the poison. In turn, I would like to take you up on your offer of the herbs. I will need all the extra time I can get.”

“Of course, Warden, it would be my honour,” Neraka said. “But are you certain this Urn can cure you?”

“If I do nothing, the only certainty I have is death,” I said.

Thalinar gave a grim smile. “Then don’t let us be in your way, Warden. I wish you luck.”

He beckoned to his other men, and a young dwarf came forward, holding a leather brigandine that looked very familiar. “Oh, before you go, we found this near the stream where the Darkspawn attacked. Think it might be yours?”


	8. Chapter 8

It was a relief to see the distant haze of the Frostback Mountains as I reached the next ridge. Lake Calenhad stretched northwards below me, and I paused, looking over the clear waters. Neraka’s herbs had proven more effective than I’d thought, effectively banishing my aches and hot sweats. It was almost enough to forget I’d been poisoned in the first place, until each dose started to wear off. Since leaving Denerim, I’d figured I needed to chew the roots at least every eight hours to stem my symptoms. They were somewhat bitter and had a dark earthy taste, but I’d gotten used to it. I would have to if I wanted to overcome the venom running through my veins.

As if on cue, a rush of cold swept over me, and my limbs started to shake. Forced to sit, I perched on a broken boulder, rummaging in the pouch at my belt. Two stems came to my hand, and I bit into them, scowling at the taste. Gradually my shivering quieted, and I sighed. I would have to be careful to make the herbs last.

I looked back to the snow-capped peaks. At this rate, if the directions in Ser Perth’s book were correct, I would reach Haven by the next morning. That would leave a good five days to find the Ashes. Provided I didn’t run into any setbacks first.

I took a brief swig of water from my flask, before I stood up and set off. Now I’d no longer have a nice straight road to follow; instead I’d have a bumpy track that wound into the hills. As a precaution I drew my dagger, keeping a close eye on my surroundings. This would be a path favoured by bandits and wild creatures, but it would be their misfortune if they came across me. I would not repeat my mistake from Denerim.

The rocky trail grew steeper, lined with scrub and moss. The air too held a fresh chill, and I gripped the fur cloak Thalinar had given me. It was fortunate he had been able to reclaim my armour as well. Although I’d avoided Darkspawn, I had not been so lucky with thieves and assassins, and I wouldn’t have been able to face them without it.

The thought brought back memories, and I closed my eyes. As if I needed more reminders how tough it was travelling alone. After all, Duncan had been with me after Highever’s fall, and I couldn’t imagine a time when Duke had not been by my side. It was no wonder my newfound isolation felt so strange. Not because I lacked the confidence to defend myself, but rather I missed the camaraderie. From Alastair’s quips and Morrigan’s insults to Zevran’s charms and Leliana’s devoutness, none would fail to entertain. It was something I had grown to miss deeply. And it was something I would have to learn to live without.

A yawn escaped me. I reached for my water flask once more, when odd tracks caught my eye. I peered closer, making out smeared boot-prints that could only have been made recently. My eyes narrowed.

Someone was nearby.

Carefully I scaled the nearby rocks to avoid leaving my own trail. The prints were heading towards a small forest. Judging from the different shapes, I guessed there were perhaps three or four travelling together. My heart sank a little. Too few to be my companions. Still, I would do well to keep my distance. I did not need to distract Alastair and the others from the more important task at hand.

I continued for a few miles. Nothing seemed out of place, when at last I caught a glimpse of a camp fire. It sat before a small clearing, surrounded by a couple of tents, but there were no other signs of life. I remained hidden in the rocks, watching. The sun sank lower and lower, and I frowned. Perhaps it was just a group of hunters…

Stray voices came from the trees behind the furthest tent. I glanced towards it. A pair of men in leather armour emerged, followed by an elf and a qunari. They went to the first tent and called out. Someone snorted inside, and shortly a dark-haired man poked his head out.

“Your report?” he demanded.

“They’re walking on the mountain path below us,” one of the leather-clad men said. “They should get to the top of the river in the next half hour or so.”

“Excellent, just as we planned,” the dark-haired man said. “Get in position. They won’t know what hit them. Remember, it’s the red-head that Orlesian crone wants dead. Focus on her.”

The band nodded, then disappeared into the forest. I fingered my dagger hilt, thoughtful. I had not expected to come across the mercenaries again, and certainly not as they were about to carry out their ambush. They must have lied in their report in Denerim. Maybe it was just as well. I was in a prime position to foul up their plans, and I would not pass up this opportunity.

I left the cover of the rocks, cautiously approaching the camp. Drawing my sword, I entered the trees, picking up the mercenaries’ trail. They had not taken much care, and it was easy to follow the broken twigs and scuffed patches. Nonetheless, I needed to watch myself. There were five targets to take out, and if I was spotted they would raise the alarm.

At last I came to the edge of a rocky outcrop. Below ran another path, separated from my side by a rushing river. I walked parallel to the water, sheltered by the trees. The twisted roots and thick bushes however forced me to retreat inwards, and soon the river disappeared from sight. Maker’s breath, I could not afford to get lost. I needed a better vantage point.

I sheathed my weapons and climbed a sturdy oak. Its upper branches intertwined with its many neighbours, and I stepped from trunk to trunk. The river appeared again, and I followed it west. Finally a shimmer of metal glinted from the undergrowth, and I squinted closer. One of the men in leather armour was crouched over the outcrop, sword in hand. His gaze was intent on the other side, probably awaiting a signal. Totally oblivious to the menace above him.

With a grim smile, I freed my dagger from its sheath. I slipped down to the lower boughs, and in seconds it was over. My blade sailed cleanly through the man’s throat, and he fell forwards without so much as a whimper. I caught his sword, discarding it into the nearby bushes. One down, four to go.

However, as I returned to the tree tops, a yelp told me I was too late. Cursing, I jumped back to the ground and ran. The rushing hiss of the river returned, and I stopped at the edge of the tree line. The mercenaries were locked in combat with my companions. There were more than the five I’d seen at the camp, including two mabaris and another archer. Leliana remained at the rear, shooting arrows with deadly precision, while Alastair went up against the leader. Zevran and Duke were tackling the other man in leather armour, while Sten and Oghren were duelling the qunari. Wynne and Morrigan were shooting spells at the ranged fighters. They seemed to be handling the situation, when a flicker of movement made me look up. The elven archer was just above, and he had a clear shot at Leliana.

“No!” Without thinking I threw my dagger. It missed, embedding into the trunk, but it was enough to make the elf misjudge. His arrow fell at Leliana’s feet. At once she spun around, a fresh arrow nocked, and before I could blink the elf had fallen from his perch. He landed by my feet, an arrow in his neck. His shaking arms grasped the shaft, but I didn’t give him another chance.

Withdrawing my sword from his belly, I scaled the tree, reclaiming my dagger. As I looked back to the battle below, it was quickly over. The qunari and other archers fell, and the mabaris slumped to the ground, their blood mixing with their war paints. Alastair towered over the mercenary leader, ready to take the man’s last breath.

“Wait, don’t kill him!” Leliana stepped forward.

“Why not?” Alastair snarled. “It’s their fault for trying to attack us.”

“But look at them,” Leliana insisted. “The quality of their weapons, their co-ordination and skill. They are no mere bandits.” She glared at the leader, who was soaked in blood. “Who sent you?”

The mercenary leader coughed. “Someone who regrets taking you on, that’s for sure. I can’t believe she said it’d be easy to kill the red-head…”

“Red-head?” Leliana blinked. “You mean you were sent to kill me?”

“Look, I don’t get paid to find out why someone wants someone else dead,” the mercenary said. “She was offering a fair amount, too. Though I’ll be lucky if I’ll ever see a penny again.”

“‘She’?” Leliana scowled. “Tell me who sent you!”

“She never mentioned her name,” the mercenary admitted. “But I can tell you where she is.” He reached for his belt, but Alastair reacted first. He rammed his sword through the man’s chest, and the mercenary choked. He collapsed, blood pooling onto the ground.

Leliana’s eyes blazed. “What did you do that for?!”

“He could have been reaching for a concealed weapon!” Alastair shot back.

“He was going to give me a lead!”

Alastair scoffed. He rolled the body of the mercenary over with his foot, then proceeded to rip his belt pouch off. Fumbling inside, he brought out a piece of parchment, which he flung at Leliana.

“See, nothing lost,” he growled.

Leliana did not answer, although her eyes betrayed her anger. She skimmed over the parchment, then crumpled it in her hand.

“It has to be Marjolaine,” she muttered. “She’s hiding in Denerim.”

“Well, whoever she is, she’ll have to wait,” Alastair said. “The Ashes and the Blight come first.”

Leliana opened her mouth, a retort on her lips, but then thought better of it. She managed a curt nod. Zevran, however, stepped forward.

“I would agree with finding the Ashes quickly,” he said, “but you realise there is nothing to stop this woman sending further assassins? It might be an idea to cover ourselves once we have finished…”

“I am not wasting anymore time!” Alastair rumbled. Now I could see his face was haggard, all trace of his usual humour gone. “We get the Ashes and save the Arl, then we get the alliance of the Dalish and take the fight to Loghain. If anyone wants to run off and do their own personal housekeeping in the meantime, you can do it yourselves.”

Zevran scowled, but kept the rest of his thoughts to himself.

“Any other complaints?” Alastair asked. He was met with dead silence. “Good, then let’s be on our way.”

I watched them depart, not missing Wynne’s disapproving look, although she made no motion to voice her opinion. It was a little concerning, as I had never seen her afraid to speak her mind before. Yet I was more shocked as to what had become of Alastair. He seemed more eager than ever to reach the Ashes, but why had they taken so long? They should’ve reached Haven days ago. And while I agreed the Ashes remained the priority, he was wrong to be so dismissive of Zevran. If this woman was not dealt with, she would cause further problems. Not to mention the effect it would have on Leliana. Already she trailed at the rear, her face sullen. It would do them no favours to have her so distracted. But more than that, she did not deserve to suffer without any support. If only I could talk to her…

Suddenly sharp pain rang through my hand, and I almost dropped my dagger. Not long after, the aches across my back and shoulders returned, and I was forced to lean against a tree. My forehead burned. Maker’s breath, had it been that long already?

With sweaty fingers, I fished in my pouch for another root. However, as I felt around, there were only three left. But I’d not taken any since…

Eyes wide, I checked the leather. A small tear had appeared on one side; I must’ve caught it in a branch. I stared at the torn stitched, my mouth dry.

This couldn’t be happening!

* * *

 

A light snow had started by the time I staggered into Haven. It was eerily quiet; _too_ quiet. I sat on an abandoned porch, catching my breath. I had one herb left, which I was saving for an emergency, but it had come at the cost of more rigors and sickness. Because of that, it had taken another day to cross the trail. I was lucky I was still on my feet. Nonetheless, every minute not seeking the Ashes was a minute wasted. I had to endure a little longer.

Pulling the cloak hood over my head, I stepped out. My legs buckled, but I held firm. I studied the empty fields and paths, the breeze biting. Even without the cold, this whole place filled me with foreboding. Ser Perth had been right to be so distrustful.

Bile soured my throat, and I paused, spitting into the grass. It did little to dampen the nausea. I wiped my mouth, walking further into the village. The houses were few, and not a single soul walked the streets. I would even have called it deserted, if not for the single light coming from the main store ahead.

I stopped at the entrance and knocked, only to be met with silence. Frowning, I let myself in. Then the stench hit me, and I couldn’t hold myself any longer. I just managed to back out in time as my stomach decided to empty once more. The burning in my chest returned, and I clasped my hand over it. Part of me begged to eat the final root, but I held back. I would hold on for as long as I could.

Quickly rinsing my mouth with water, I re-entered the store. The lantern on the wall remained lit, so I removed it and checked around. The counter was empty, but the source of the smell seemed to come from the back room. I covered my mouth, then cautiously approached.

The feeble candlelight fell to the corner, revealing an armoured corpse. From the insignia on his breast-plate, he was a Redcliffe knight. He had been horribly dismembered, such that it was impossible to make out his face. I backtracked swiftly, glad to return to the freezing snow. At least I knew I was on the right track.

A faint clang echoed on the hill, and I glanced up. Lights were still burning in the village Chantry. Perhaps the villagers had gathered there.

Another bout of shivering took hold, and I grasped the stone wall. Sweat dripped off my brow, so I focused on my breathing. It would be over soon, but I would not be able to continue like this for much longer. I would get to the Chantry and then take my last herb.

Still fighting the tremors, I forced one foot forward, followed by the other. Slowly, I crept out of the shadow of the store and inched my way up the hill. While it wasn’t as steep as the other paths leading to the village, it was by far the hardest climb I’d faced so far. In the end I drew my sword, using it as a walking stick. Come on, I had to make it.

Finally I reached the Chantry’s double doors. One had been left slightly ajar, though no sound emerged. Breathing hard, I stumbled inside, before collapsing against a wall. And that was where I realised why it was so quiet.

Several villagers lay dead on the icy stone floor. Many brandished farm tools or simple swords. At their head lay a cloaked man, his beard and hair soaked in blood and filth. His empty eyes stared at the ceiling, his lips twisted into a deformed smile. The sight was chilling, and I looked away, keeping my sword close. Whatever caused this massacre had done so only recently, and I didn’t need it to set its eyes on me.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when footsteps came from the back room. I stared, before ducking between the rear bookcases. I crouched, pulling a corpse in front of me, as two very familiar voices reached my ears.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Alastair moaned, holding his hands to his head. “Why won’t the stubborn old fool just tell us how to get to the shrine? He’ll have plenty of time to explore on his own once we’ve returned to Redcliffe!”

“He has been tortured and imprisoned for the sake of his life’s research,” Leliana said. “If you were so close to achieving your dream, would you not try everything possible to attain it?”

“We don’t have time for his petty ambition,” Alastair replied, clenching his fist. “I will not be late a second time.”

Leliana scoffed. “You are losing sight of what matters, Alastair. If Elissa were still here…”

Alastair suddenly rounded on her, his eyes livid.

“Don’t you dare speak up for her!” he snapped. “It’s her fault we’ve already taken so long.”

“Oh, and you think you are entirely blameless as well?” Leliana’s tone was razor sharp. “Had you returned with the Mages sooner, such tragedy could have been avoided!”

“I was not the one who ordered an innocent to be slaughtered in haste!” Alastair roared. “Elissa _promised_ she would wait, and look what happened!”

“Elissa did not expect the demon to attack so fiercely!” Leliana couldn’t control herself any longer. “She had to make a choice; something I see _you_ have continued to struggle with since you left Ostagar!” She shook her head. “You thrust all responsibility onto Elissa when she was barely honoured into the Wardens, and you blame her for taking decisive action? When your own guilt riddles you, that now you can never make amends with the woman who cast you out?”

“Shut up!” Alastair barked. “How can you still believe in her after what she’s done? When she’s proven she’s willing to sacrifice anyone for the sake of the Blight?!”

“It was Isolde’s choice!” Leliana shot back.

“A biased choice made without thought or logic!” Alastair scowled. “Elissa should’ve talked her out of it. She’d already done it once. But for whatever reason she baulked and now Isolde’s blood is on her hands.” He shook his head. “I can’t follow someone who lets fear dictate their decisions.”

“Such hypocrisy,” Leliana spat, “when the one letting their fear rule them still stands before me.”

She stormed off before more words could be exchanged. Alastair stood there for a moment, before he punched a wall and retreated to the back room again. I closed my eyes, my heart moved. Leliana’s faith in me was still strong, despite what I’d done. But it was not a faith I deserved. Alastair was right; I had taken a choice in fear with disastrous results. Had I not seen Leliana wounded or the knights in peril, would I have held on that little bit longer? Would I still have had time to save them all?

The thought set off a pang in my chest. I would never know. It was a regret I would have to carry for the rest of my life. And if I would always be crippled with such doubt, I was not fit to lead. Not anymore.

Muttered conversation caught my ear, so I listened. Alastair was speaking to another man, and while I didn’t get all the words I caught the gist. The man must have been Brother Genitivi, as he was explaining how to get to the shrine on the mountain. That had to be where the Ashes lay.

Footsteps approached, then fell away, and I watched as Alastair and Wynne helped an injured Genitivi out of the Chantry. Once they were clear, I stepped out, and the world spun. Gasping, I dropped to all fours. Blackness encroached my vision, and my eyes widened. With shaking hands I groped for the final herb, struggling to get it into my palm. I stuffed it into my mouth, then lay on the floor. My skin was clammy, and a fierce ache had settled behind my eyes. Dear Maker, let it stop already…

Finally the root started to kick in, and my tremors ceased. Drenched with sweat, I struggled to my feet. The pain remained, but I pushed it back, staggering towards the exit. I could not lose Genitivi’s trail, otherwise I’d never make it to the shrine.

Or the next morning.


	9. Chapter 9

I ducked into an icy passageway. My breath fogged the air as several men descended from the upper stairwell, their swords and shields primed. Thankfully they remained oblivious to my presence, hurrying towards the lower chambers. I swallowed, trying to calm my racing heart. Even with the herb’s help, it had been frantic getting this far. The shrine was crawling with armed men and mages, and it had taken all my skill to evade them. Most appeared combat trained, but even the ones who weren’t were still as dangerous. I had never expected to find so many stationed here. Nonetheless, given what had befallen the Redcliffe knights, perhaps I shouldn’t have been too surprised. From what I’d overheard from Brother Genitivi, it seemed Haven was part of a ‘cult of Andraste’. These men truly believed in their cause, and nothing would deter them from fighting off intruders. Not even death.

Still, with the cultists focused on my companions, it had made sneaking through much easier. I had crossed the very open main hall without being detected, and the disturbances meant most of the fighters had left their posts. Hopefully I would not run into too much trouble ahead.

Stepping out of the passage, I glanced upwards. At the top of the stairs, the marble walls turned back to grey stone. I’d be going into the mountain itself. Both man-made and natural structures blended together in perfect harmony, and I wondered who could have built such a marvel. It was certainly a fitting resting place for the Holy Prophet.

I waited for a moment, listening for further steps. When none came, I picked a lantern off the wall and hurried up the stairs. They were chipped and worn, yet still gleamed in the bronze light. I paused at the summit, looking inside the cave entrance. Rusted metal caught my eye, and I frowned. A trap.

I picked a loose stone from the ground, then tossed it inside. For a moment nothing happened, when a huge saw-blade emerged, still working after Maker-knew how many centuries. It whirred for several seconds, then retreated into the wall. Sighing, I scooped up another rock and repeated the exercise. This time when the blade withdrew, I bolted past before it would reset.

Raising my lantern, I headed deeper into the heart of the mountain. The cave walls narrowed, forcing me into tight gaps. In some places I had to side step, my chest and back skimming the freezing walls. I shivered, and not just for the cold. I had never liked enclosed spaces. Further, this would not be a good place to be caught in a fight. Just how far did this temple reach?

I lifted my lantern higher, treading through shallow puddles. Every scrape of loose rock made my pulse bound faster, and my light was no better than a matchstick in a ballroom. It was impossible to keep track of time, and I had no idea how much ground I’d covered, either. There didn’t seem to be any sign of the marble floors returning. Was I even going the right way…

A low rumble echoed ahead. I stopped dead, covering the lantern with my cloak. Motionless, I waited, counting my breaths. The noise did not return. At twenty breaths I sighed, pulling my cloak back. Perhaps my imagination was playing tricks on me.

However, as I made to walk again, a snarl shook the cavern walls. It was certainly not human. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I reached for my sword. My fingers had just touched the hilt when a burst of flame erupted. I jumped back, the heat intense against my skin.

A drake!

Swearing, I sprinted back the way I’d come. Lumbering steps followed, and a harsh scream tore through the air. I kept running, not stopping until I was in the light of the temple once more. However, even the narrow passage did not deter the beast. It smashed through the rocks, finally breaking into the shrine. I took a defensive stance, my blades ready.

The drake howled, aiming another breath of fire. I dodged, kicking a chipped urn towards the creature. It slashed at the ceramic with its claws, while I ran to flank it. My sword found its mark and the drake bawled. Blood pooled from the wound, and it swept its tail at me. I cried out, slamming into the wall. Somehow I managed to keep a grip on my weapons, and I staggered upright. The drake pounced, and I ducked, listening to the ear-crunching scrape as it ripped the marble tiles. With its underside exposed, I struck my dagger into its belly. Shrieking, the beast reared, and the dagger hilt slipped through my fingers.

Before I could react, the drake head-butted me in the back. I fell down the upper steps, landing by the passageway from earlier. My sword clattered to the bottom, while the stair edges cracked into my chest. I choked, the breath knocked from my lungs. The drake roared, not caring for its blood that soiled the floor tiles, and stalked towards me.

My head spinning, I frantically looked to the passage. The lanterns revealed a huge icicle at the far end, which sealed off a carved door. It was my only chance.

The drake snapped its jaws, and I rolled aside. Scrambling to my feet, I took off into the passage, almost slipping on the ice. It charged after me, and I went straight for the icicle. At the last second I dived aside, just as the drake lunged.

The icicle shattered, but the drake’s momentum carried it onward. It smashed through the door and groaned. More blood spilled, staining the snow, and then it fell still. I rested against the wall, breathing hard. When I was certain it wouldn’t move again, I approached. The door had splintered, and the broken wood had gone right through the creature’s throat. That, along with its other wounds, had been too much. Thank the Maker.

It took some effort, but eventually I was able to push the drake onto its side and reclaim my dagger. It was soaked in crimson. I gave it a hasty wipe on the snow, before returning to the staircase. My sword lay at the bottom, but before I could retrieve it, voices broke through the lower entrance. I caught the flash of mage’s spells, and cursed. The others were catching up. I had to leave, quickly.

Abandoning my sword, I raced back into the caves. The drake had done a good job widening the way, and had even broken the saw-blade trap. I was all but jogging through, even without decent light. Finally a glow appeared at the end of the passage, and my heart lifted. This had to be it.

However, the closer I approached, the less my gaze could bear the light. It was not particularly brilliant, yet my eyes protested, urging me to retreat to the darkness. Then that all-too-familiar throb pulsed in my temples, and I gripped the side of my head. Impossible, it couldn’t be wearing off already!

Biting my lip, I pushed back thoughts of pain and strode into another cavern. This was much larger, akin to the great hall at the shrine entrance. The floor was the same marble, though the ceiling and walls were pure rock. Light filtered through gaps in the walls, and I had to use my forearm to shield my eyes. Why did it hurt so much…

“Stop!” A man’s deep voice rang out. “You will go no further!”

I froze, lowering my arm. My vision had become blurry, but I could make out the heavily armoured man storming towards me. He had other men with him, and they scattered, cutting off escape. The man drew his longsword, aiming it at my throat. Now he was closer, I could make out his black beard and dark skin.

“How dare you show yourself here,” he spat. “You have defiled our temple, spilling the blood of the faithful and slaughtering our young!” He pressed his blade against my skin, the metal like ice. “You will tell me right now why you have done this, or I will strike you down where you stand!”

His voice commanded power, and also made my headache ten times worse. For a moment I thought I would pass out, but I clenched my fists.

“I have done…no such thing.” I fought to get the words out. “I am not with those others.”

“Ha!” the man scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Do you believe a mere woman capable of such a feat?” I asked, fighting back my urge to cringe. I hated playing this card, but time was running very short. I had to get away soon, or all my efforts would have been for nothing. “Only one woman would have the necessary skill, and you claim to serve her.”

The man seemed taken aback by my words.

“You revere our Lady as you should,” he said, removing his sword from my neck. “And yes, I cannot imagine one woman tearing through our ranks with such ease. Nonetheless, here you are, and all but unscathed. Your skills have some merit, at least.” He paused, holding his chin. “If you are truly not to blame for this merciless assault, then perhaps you can serve our cause otherwise.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“What…What would you have me do?”

The man glared.

“First, know this, stranger. Our lady Andraste has overcome death and been reborn in a more radiant form than you can imagine!” He swept his arms out. “She has taken the form of a dragon, and only her true disciples can look upon her, awaiting the day when she will descend in all her fiery glory!” He clenched his fist. “Yet that cannot happen while she remains tied to the shadow of her past life.”

“I…do not understand…”

“Allow me to explain, child,” the man said. “I am Father Kolgrim, leader of the Disciples of Andraste. Atop this mountain lies her Sacred Ashes, watched by an ancient Guardian. It is those remains of her past incarnation that prevents her from realising her true power. They cannot co-exist as they do now.”

“So you’d have me destroy them?” I blurted. “But I need them!”

“I said nothing about destruction!” Kolgrim barked. “What is needed is _transformation_. The new Andraste must claim her old remains as her own, and that will take but a drop of her blood. And if you seek the Ashes’ restorative powers, you need but a pinch. The rest of the remains must be changed.” He paced the floor. “We have tried countless times, yet the Guardian continues to repel us. He knows us too well. But you…” The hunger in his eyes deepened. “You have a great chance of success. And if you become Andraste’s champion, you too shall be rewarded beyond your imagining.”

I shivered, wishing I’d had the foresight to avoid this room. This man was utterly insane. He had no idea what he was talking about. Yet without my sword, I had no hope to fight him and his disciples. They were heavily armed, well-trained, and I was sick and exhausted, unsure how many hours I had left.

I would have to play along for now.

“Very well,” I said. “Take me to the Ashes, and I will liberate Andraste from the shackles of her mortal life.”

“Excellent!” Kolgrim roared. He reached into his belt pouch, presenting a vial filled with blood. “Then allow me to…”

“Stop right there!”

Alastair’s voice cut through the air, and I spun around. He, Morrigan, and Leliana had emerged from another connecting cave, ahead of the others. Their look of shock was short-lived.

“Elissa, what the hell are you doing here?!” Alastair snarled.

“T’would seem she has the right idea,” Morrigan drawled. “Who knows what power the Ashes could grant. Was this your plan all along, Warden?”

“I cannot believe this…” Leliana was horrified. “I will _not_ believe this!” She nocked an arrow, but her arm trembled. “You would defile such a sacred relic for your own power, and let an innocent man die? This is not you, Elissa!”

I turned away, her voice striking as deep as the poison. But if I revealed the truth, Kolgrim would turn against me. Leliana, I am truly sorry.

“Take me to the Ashes,” I said.

“STOP HER!” Alastair sprinted forward, his sword raised.

“Hold them off, men!” Kolgrim instructed. “You, stranger, follow me!”

He hurried to the back of the cave. I went after him, albeit much more slowly. His other men formed a wall, and it wasn’t long before they were clashing with my companions. Alastair screamed my name, and my heart wrenched. Had I not hurt him enough?

Yet this was how it had to be.

“Hurry, hurry!” Kolgrim ushered me into another passage. This one led directly outside, and we emerged onto a ruined bridge. The Frostback Mountains towered around us, and the air was bitingly cold. My ears went numb, and I had to clutch my forehead as we walked.

Kolgrim stopped before the northern-most part of the shrine. A walkway of pillars led the way to an iron door. It appeared completely unguarded. However, Kolgrim raised his arm, and a terrifying roar echoed across the peaks. A shadow flew overhead, and then an enormous High Dragon landed on the path before us. It screeched, but Kolgrim was not deterred. He stepped forward, his hand poised like a mage about to cast a spell.

“My Lady, do not fear, your disciple has come to free you!” he said. The High Dragon bared its teeth, its gaze fixed on Kolgrim’s hand. “Let your champion pass, and have your power restored!”

The High Dragon roared again. I was afraid it was going to attack. But then it beat its wings and took off, heading towards the ruins on the eastern side.

“She has granted you passage,” Kolgrim said. “Now be quick, before she changes her mind!”

He turned and headed back to the bridge, drawing his longsword. Trying to keep my companions from reaching me, no doubt. I watched him go, then strode between the pillars to the iron door. The pulses in my head were not quite so frequent, but their intensity made up for it. I rubbed my eyes, desperate to clear the blurring. I would not lose myself after travelling so far.

The iron door creaked open, and I entered a short L-shaped hallway. An impressive statue of Andraste in full armour adorned the wall. I stared at it briefly, before I rounded the corner. A man was standing before another doorway. He wore very ancient armour, yet it appeared as pristine as when first made. The Guardian.

“I bid you welcome, pilgrim.” His voice was faded, and his eyes held a livid glow, like that of lyrrium. I approached, and for a moment my headache disappeared. “You have come to honour Andraste, and you shall… _if_ you can prove yourself.”

“Prove myself?” Newfound fear surged through me. More trials? I did not have time for this. But if I had to defeat him…

“It is not my place to test you,” the Guardian said, reading my thoughts. “The Gauntlet shall do that. It tells the true pilgrims from the false. You must brave the four challenges, and we will see if your soul is worthy.” His gaze lingered, and I squirmed, uncomfortable. It was as if he could see every memory I possessed. “You have fought many battles, some alone and some with friends. Yet not all have seen you victory. Tell me, why do you let defeat hold you back, when the world is in such peril?”

My eyes widened. How in Andraste’s name did he…

“There are still lessons to be learnt through failure,” I said slowly.

“But have you truly learned them?” the Guardian asked. “You lost your home and family, your brotherhood of Wardens, but when the same happened for Lady Isolde, your resilience changed. What made her so different?”

My throat went dry. “I…I have nothing to say to that.”

“Then let me keep you no longer.” The Guardian bowed his head, and the doorway behind him opened. “Good luck, and may you find what you seek.”

* * *

 

I staggered into the next chamber, struggling to remain standing. The first room had been filled with spirits asking riddles. They had been straightforward enough, but my pounding headache had made it that much harder. I had almost made a mistake, too, if I had not caught myself in time. Either way, I had passed the first challenge, yet with three more to go, I was not sure if I would last.

I gritted my teeth. No, I was almost there; I could not fall at the final hurdle. Forcing myself to focus, I studied the new room. It was dimly lit and mostly empty, apart from a cracked mirror that had been fixed to the wall. The exit lay beside it, leading into a dark passage.

The mirror glistened as I passed, heading for the way out. My tattered reflected stared back, revealing the mess. My hair was dirty and matted, my eyes sunken, and blood and filth coated my armour, gauntlets and boots. Still, I ignored it and pressed on. It would matter little what I looked like if I was dead.

Suddenly the mirror jerked. I snapped my head towards it, only to find a ghostly spirit emerge from the glass. It had my face and armour, and it drew a wispy dagger. Hissing, it charged, and I threw my hands up. The dagger struck my gauntlet, solid and real, and I was forced into the wall. It grabbed my neck, and the back of my head struck the bricks. Lights danced across my vision, and the nausea deepened. Maker, the pain, make it stop!

A familiar cry broke the haze, and the tension around my neck vanished. I dropped to the floor, catching myself on my hands. A dazzle of steel flew before me, striking the spirit, and it vanished into smoke. But I had no time to thank my saviour, as the pressure around my throat returned, accompanied by a razor-sharp knife. I blinked away the blur, and found myself staring into intense blue eyes.

“You dare even set foot in this place?” Leliana spoke in a low tone, laced with more venom than any poisoned blade. “You are not even worthy to breathe the air in this shrine!”

“Leliana…” My voice was a croak. “This…is not…what you think…”

“What am I supposed to think, then?!” She shook me. “Why did you hide away, leaving us to fight those men, only to make a deal with that _monster_!” The grip on her dagger wavered. “I thought I knew you, Elissa. You would never consider this madness. So why in Andraste’s name are you doing this?!”

Her cry echoed off the barren walls, and I closed my eyes. It was hard to think straight.

“Because…of this.” I gently pushed her dagger aside. She didn’t resist, releasing me. I unclipped my gauntlet, then unwrapped the bandage around my hand. Leliana stared, confused. Finally I spread my palm, revealing the wound, and that was when recognition dawned.

“No…” She brought my hand closer. “This mark, the lines…” Her breathing quickened. “This is Black Locust poison!” The horror sank in further, and tears formed in her eyes. “Only one person I know uses it, she has it specially made. Marjolaine did this, didn’t she?”

“She never…told me her…name,” I said. “But she knew…all about you. This…was her warning.”

“I knew I wasn’t seeing things,” Leliana whispered. “You were there at the ambush, you stopped that archer from hitting me!” She snatched my shoulders. “Why didn’t you show yourself?”

I looked away. “What…would you…have done? It would…only have caused…more strife…”

“You think your absence hasn’t caused more?” Leliana asked. “We barely function together now. Alastair is always letting his emotions rule his judgement. It took us much too long to reach Haven because of it, and he will not listen to counsel from anyone else. Our fighting has suffered, and if this continues…” She took my hand. “Will you not consider returning to us?”

I made to answer, when thunder roared through the back of my head. It was like being hit with a mace. I screamed, clawing at my scalp with my hands. My head was going to explode!

“Elissa!” Leliana helped me sit. “By the Maker, how are you still able to remain conscious…” Something was pressed between my lips, and icy water flowed through. The numbing cold was a welcome distraction. Then it was replaced by something else, bitter and earthy. A gentle touch caressed my cheek, encourage me to chew.

“W-Where…”I rasped.

“Save your breath.” Leliana held my hand. “We will get to the Ashes and cure you. I promise.”


	10. Chapter 10

It took a while before I could stand again. The root Leliana had given was not as potent as Neraka’s, but it had quelled most of the pain. More importantly, it had bought me precious time. And with her help, I felt more confident I could clear the final trials. For the first time in a long while, I dared to hope.

“Is the headache better?” Leliana asked.

“Just about,” I said.

“You must tell me immediately if it returns,” Leliana said. She turned aside. “It is…one of the last stages of the poisoning, before it stops the heart. And I cannot grant you anymore time.”

I gulped. I was fortunate she had reached me when she did.

“It should not be far now,” I said. “There are only two trials remaining.”

“So the Guardian spoke,” Leliana replied. “Let us move on.”

We entered the next passage. The walls were damp, the air heavy with the scent of the burning torches. This part of the shrine was much less extravagant than what had come before. There were no engravings, no statues, no ornaments, not even marbled floors. It had been built for practicality rather than superficial beauty. That could only mean whatever lay ahead was incredibly dangerous.

My foot caught a loose stone, and I stumbled. That trigged a bout of dizziness, and I had to stop. Leliana hurried to my side, holding my shoulder.

“Are you sure you are alright?” Her voice quivered with worry.

“I will have to manage,” I answered, blinking hard. “I have no time to rest.”

Leliana’s gaze softened. She waited until I took another step, then fell into rhythm beside me. Her gaze was filled with guilt.

“I can’t believe she did this to you,” she murmured. “That after all this time, she never stopped watching me. Never stopped wanting to hurt me.”

“Who, Marjolaine?”

Leliana nodded. “I…did not tell you the entire truth about why I was in Lothering. Why I abandoned my life in Orlais and entered the Chantry.” She glanced at my wounded hand. “Perhaps if I had been more honest, this would not have happened.”

“It was my own carelessness that led to this,” I countered. “And it takes no fool to realise how dangerous this woman is.”

“In that, you are correct,” Leliana said. “I have never known Marjolaine as anything less.” She fell silent for a moment, her eyes distant. “Yet there was a time I admired her for it.” She swallowed, adjusting her bowstring. “A few years after my mother died, she took me under her wing. She taught me everything. The ways of the Orlesian courts, the games the nobles played, and how to bend the rules to a bard’s favour. I soaked up her knowledge, coming into my own and making my name.” Her expression soured. “And I loved it. Deceiving men in their own beds so they might never wake again. Poisoning targets under cover of darkness, planting letters of blackmail and watching the chaos unfold…it was all I knew, and I became very good at it.”

“So what changed?” I asked.

Leliana closed her eyes. “I overstepped my business. I had been sent to kill a man and retrieve his possessions. Nothing I had not done before. I did not even know his importance. So I hunted him down, and found sealed documents on his person. Documents I should have left well alone, yet for some reason I felt compelled to look. Against my better judgement I opened them, and discovered that Marjolaine had been selling information abroad.”

“So she was charged for treason, and still resents you for it?”

Leliana gave a wry smile.

“If only it were as simple as that,” she answered. “I resealed the documents and returned them to Marjolaine, but I was worried she would get caught by the authorities.” She bit her lip. “I cared too much, and so I was foolish enough to voice those concerns. She brushed them aside and said nothing would come of it. I believed her, just as I had always done. Until I was cornered by Orlesian guards and presented the documents, now altered to look like I had been their author.”

My eyes widened. “She betrayed you?”

“And I received a traitor’s punishment because of it.” Leliana’s voice strained; it was a painful memory. “I can barely speak of it, even now. Eventually I did escape, and fled to Ferelden—to Lothering—for my safety. I thought that would be the end of it.” Her jaw clenched. “I was naïve to think I could leave her behind.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

Leliana shook her head. “She has made her motives clear. I will face her again, but not now. First, we must get you well.” She managed a dry smile. “Nothing would make me happier than to see her face with you by my side.”

I had to smirk, also wanting to give that Orlesian witch a taste of her own medicine. “Then let’s make sure it will happen.”

We came to the next chamber. It was smaller than the previous ones, and most of the floor was missing. Only twelve carved panels remained, surrounding the gap. The exit stood well beyond, made up of a jutting ledge and twin pillars, and there seemed no way to reach it.

“It is too far to jump,” Leliana deduced. “And we have no rope.”

“There must be another way through,” I said. “Let’s take a look.”

I took a step inside. My legs shook a little, but were able to keep me upright. The herb was doing its job. Leliana reached out, like a mother afraid to let her baby walk.

“Elissa, are you sure you can…”

“I’ll be alright.” I strode to the first panel, inspecting the engravings. They were merely decorative, yet some parts seemed more worn than others. In fact, judging from the size and shape, it would match the area of a footprint.

Tentatively, I placed a foot on the panel. The carvings lit up, a rush of lyrrium passing beneath the stone.

“Look!” Leliana pointed to the chasm. I stared. A stone block had materialized from no-where, and now floated in the middle of the emptiness. It looked identical to the exit ledge.

“Try stepping on another panel,” I instructed. Leliana nodded, walking to the other end. When her weight activated the mechanism, a further block appeared, adjacent to the one I had conjured.

“It does not look right,” Leliana commented. She reached into her quiver, producing an arrow. She fired it at the block, where it proceeded to fly right through it. “As I thought, an illusion. It does not look like we can go this way.”

“Wait.” I moved to another panel. It did not respond. Frowning, I tried the one beside it. This time the carvings glowed, and the first floating block flashed. “Try your arrow again.”

Leliana obeyed. She released her bowstring, and the arrow bounced off solid matter.

“It worked!” She nodded at me. “Keep pressing panels and I will test them.”

I stepped over to the fourth panel. Another ethereal block appeared, completing the ‘bridge’. It failed Leliana’s test, so I went to the final panel on my side. My foot pressed into the carving, and all of the blocks disappeared.

“Maker’s breath, who created this nightmare?” I held my temples, my headache threatening to return. “I don’t have time to play around!”

“Elissa, calm yourself,” Leliana said. “We must keep focus if we are to beat this puzzle. We will try again.”

She stepped back, and the panels were reset. I took a deep breath, trying to put the pain out of my mind. Leliana was right. If I gave in to frustration, I truly would be too late.

Once more we began to step on the carvings. One by one we activated the twelve panels, hoping to establish a pattern. As I watched the blocks flicker in and out of darkness, it finally clicked. This was very similar to a game I used to play with Orin. His room in Highever had similar tiles, and he loved to challenge me to reach his bed. I would only be allowed to step forward if he was on the right tile, otherwise I’d be sent to the start again. While our floors had not been enchanted with lyrrium, the principle was the same. He had been very bright for his age. Maker how I missed him…

“Elissa?” Leliana had returned to my side, holding the back of her hand to my forehead. “Has it returned? Are you unwell again?”

I gently pulled her hand away. “Sorry, I was…reflecting. But I think I know the answer now.”

“Oh?”

“There is no way we can activate all four blocks at once,” I said. “So I will walk across as you make them appear.”

“I can’t do that!” Leliana cried. “If I make a mistake and you fall to your death…”

“You won’t make a mistake,” I said. “I will tell you what order to step in. But it’s the only way we can get across.”

Leliana pouted. However, she let her shoulders sag in defeat.

“Very well. We haven’t much time.”

Nodding, I waited at the edge of the empty floor. I pointed to the first panel, and Leliana depressed it. Then I guided her to the fourth panel. The moment she activated it, the first block appeared. I tested it with my foot, confirming it was no spectre, before stepping onto it. Leliana tensed.

“This one next,” I said, gesturing to the fourth panel. Leliana walked on, bringing forth the lyrrium glow. The next block appeared, and I took another step forward. Leliana moved, and the block behind me vanished. I licked my lips, planning the next move.

“Done.” Leliana stood on the second panel, and the third block took shape. Only one further block remained to reach the other side.

I turned around, studying the remaining panels. If I did not get this right, the block beneath me would vanish. However, as I made the calculations, the chamber suddenly shook. Rocks tumbled from the ceiling, and I dropped to my knees. Dust trembled around me, and Leliana gasped. Debris started to hit the panels, causing the blocks to phase in and out. I cursed, trying to stand. The chamber was going to collapse!

“Elissa!”

“Stay where you are!” I shouted. “If you move, this block will disappear!”

Leliana froze. “But the chamber…”

“I’ll think of something!”

Another chunk of the ceiling fell away, striking one of the exit pillars. It groaned, loosened from its foundation, then toppled forward. It hit my block, the impact throwing it off-balance. I yelped, scrambling for purchase as I slid towards the abyss. My hands grasped the jutting stone, saving me just in time. The pillar was right beside me, completing the rest of the bridge. Still the chamber rumbled, and I gritted my teeth. If I didn’t move, I’d be crushed.

With strength I never knew I possessed, I snatched the pillar. My arms trembled, begging me to let go, but I pushed through. Slowly, I shimmied along, my legs dangling over emptiness. The broken stone cut into my hands, raw and unforgiving. Finally I found my grip on the ledge, and I pulled myself up. I collapsed onto the cold stone, my whole body aching. At the same time, the tremors stopped, and I heard a click. Moments later footsteps rushed, and Leliana pulled me into her lap.

“Elissa, are you alright?” She shook my shoulders. “Say something!”

“Ow,” I muttered, brushing my sore palms. Then I realised. “Wait, how did you…”

“When you reached the exit, the bridge completed itself,” Leliana said. “Just in time, too, otherwise I would have been buried.” She wiped her brow, caked with dust and sweat. “By the Maker, what a fiendish challenge! I would have rather faced a hundred spirit warriors.”

“I won’t argue with that,” I replied. “But I don’t think the tremors were meant to be part of the puzzle.” I pushed myself to sitting position. “Something is happening outside. We must complete the last trial quickly.”

Leliana nodded. Draping my arm over her shoulder, she helped me stand. I staggered, taking a moment to find my balance. I would not be able to walk alone; my head was starting to swim. Leliana waited patiently, until I nodded. She had to take most of my weight.

“You truly amaze me, Elissa,” Leliana said. “I have never known anyone to fight Black Locust poison for so long. It has slain even the hardiest soldiers within days.”

“I had help,” I said, concentrating on my breathing. It was starting to hurt.

“Perhaps, but you underestimate your strength,” Leliana said. She fell quiet for a moment. “You should not have left us. We need you.”

My heart sank. I was waiting for this to come up.

“You don’t need me, you have Alastair,” I said. “One Warden is more than enough.”

“It is not the fact you are a Grey Warden that makes me say that,” Leliana said, slightly affronted. “You are what Ferelden needs right now. Alastair cannot handle the responsibility. It chips too much away from him, and he is too hesitant.”

“You think my choices have been any better?” I scoffed. “I’ve let too many innocents die ay my hand.”

“And what about the innocents you saved?” Leliana shook her head. “You should not have let Alastair and Wynne’s words get to you. They were not there; they did not see the slaughter as we did!”

“I still failed them,” I answered. “I should not have panicked.”

“I do not call taking decisive action ‘panicking’,” Leliana shot back. “You did precisely what was necessary, and saved the village. Have you forgotten how grateful the people were?” Her grip tightened. “They would not have asked you to pursue the Ashes otherwise. They believe in you.”

“Their faith is misplaced,” I growled. “If Redcliffe has proven anything, it’s that I can’t trust my own judgement. I let an innocent woman die when I promised I would save her. I was selfish, and weak.”

“You are wrong, Elissa,” Leliana retorted. “If you truly believe that, then why did you seek me out, knowing Marjolaine had sent agents against me? When the poison could have claimed you at any moment?”

I remained silent, struggling with my thoughts. While I had not set out to find Leliana to defend her, I had not hesitated to intervene when I saw the mercenaries. But that was not the same…

The ground suddenly rumbled again. Leliana pushed me into the wall, sheltering me from the falling debris.

“What is going on?!” she cried. A loud screech answered her, and moments later the wall shattered. Leliana pushed me to the ground, as bright sunlight filtered through the new hole. It soon disappeared, though, as the High Dragon’s head poked through. It sported several small wounds, and its left eye was glazed, blinded by magic. It must have been attacking the shrine and caused the tremors.

“Go!” Leliana hauled me to my feet. I urged my legs to work, finding some strength to half-run, half-stagger down the passage. My lungs burned, and I held the side of my chest. The High Dragon roared, and a jet of flame escaped its mouth. Leliana cried out, and I looked back. Her bow had been singed, and her left gauntlet was blackened. However, she made no motion to retreat, and drew her dagger.

“Leliana!”

“Get to the last chamber!” Leliana yelled. “I will hold the creature!”

“What? You can’t fight a High Dragon!”

“If you stay with me, it will have us both!” Leliana argued. “Go, now!”

“But…”

The High Dragon interrupted, forcing its way into the passage. More rocks fell, and then it rammed the wall. I fell, skidding across the floor, when the ceiling behind moaned and collapsed.

“ _Leliana_!” I rolled to my front, gawking at the mess. The entire passage was blocked with solid stone. “NO!” I crawled to the mound of debris, clawing at the rock. “Leliana, answer me!”

I was only met with silence. Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I held my face in my hands. Maker, please, not Leliana! I would bear any other test, fight a thousand warriors, overcome a hundred riddles, walk into the heart of the Deep Roads t and never return, but not this… _please not this_! I owed her everything…

**What good will tears do?**

I snapped my head up. A voice had spoken directly to my thoughts. But who?

**Come now, Pup. Crying won’t make it better. Let me help.**

I froze, a familiar warmth flowing through me. I knew that voice. And I hadn’t been called ‘Pup’ for a long time, not since…

“Father?”

A dark blur appeared above me, and I looked up. Through my tears I made out the face of my father staring back. He was just as I remembered him. He smiled, and my heart ached, urging me to jump into his arms. Instead I turned away. No matter how much I still wanted it, I knew he was an illusion. This had to be the final trial.

“Leave me alone,” I said.

“I am not here to provoke your grief further,” my father answered, kneeling down. “You are so close to what you seek, but I sense you are giving up. Why?”

“I…I no longer care what happens to me,” I said, drawing my arms around myself. “I have lost too much. I can bear it no longer.”

“Yes, you have walked a hard and lonely path, Pup,” my father said. “It has taken much from you, and I am sorry I cannot be there for you. But have you forgotten what you fight for? It is not only yourself.” His fingers brushed my cheek, wiping the tears. “The Maker has a plan for us all, and you are no exception. Remember what you have overcome…”

The stone passage faded, and my eyes closed. The darkness vanished, and I was in a familiar setting; the Highever castle kitchen. But I was merely an observer. Below me, I saw myself kneeling before my parents, begging them to join me and escape. Duncan had his hand around my wrist, knowing my words were futile. Then at last we departed, my father calling out his final farewells.

 **You survived us, and the Cousland name,** my father said **. You live for our memory.**

The scene changed. Now I was watching myself in Ostagar, fighting an ogre alongside Alastair. As we put the beast to rest and lit the beacon, the room overspilled with Darkspawn. We fought valiantly, eventually overwhelmed, until a giant talon broke through the wall and snatched us away.

**You survived the Grey Wardens, and retained the means to stop the Blight. You live for their noble cause.**

Once again the vision faded, replaced by another. This showed me fighting the abominations in the Circle Tower. So close we had been to failure, yet we broke through the sloth demon’s prison and ended the ambition of the rogue mage.

**You survived the Circle, preserving magic in Ferelden when it might have been lost forever. You live so that mages may practice their art in peace.**

Another jolt of the world, and the dark visage of the golem Caridin appeared. I saw myself speaking to him, warned of the anguish his tool had wrought, and chose to destroy it forever. Branka had fought hard to see her vision of the Anvil realised, and we had stopped it.

**You survived the Deep Roads, restoring a ruler to the Dwarves and putting their disagreements to rest. You live so that Orzammar will not destroy itself.**

I tensed, knowing which vision would come next. As expected, Redcliffe appeared, showing me fighting off the undead. As I fled the losing battle, Lady Isolde came forth, affirming her decision to be sacrificed instead of Connor. I snapped my eyes shut, trying to blot out the scene, but the voice continued.

**You survived Redcliffe, ending their torment of darkness. You acted quickly, and did everything you could to minimise the loss of life. You live so that the people still hope, and believe in a champion.**

“No,” I whispered. “I…I did not do enough…”

“You did everything you could, and more,” a new, female voice said. “Now put it behind you, Elissa, so we might end your poison and serve justice to Marjolaine!”

Someone grabbed my hand, and my eyes opened. Leliana was kneeling beside me, smiling.

“So, are you going to sit there all day or shall I just fetch the Ashes for you?” she asked.

“Leliana!” I threw myself at her, holding tight. She returned the embrace just as fervently. “Maker’s breath, I thought you were…”

“It was close,” Leliana admitted, “but it will take more than a High Dragon to stop me.” She held my shoulders. “The way ahead is clear. Come.”

She helped me to my feet, and together we limped to the end of the corridor. She had lost her bow, and she was holding her left forearm close. I would have to ask the story of her escape once this was over.

The final chamber emerged. A staircase stood in the centre, leading to a tall statue, and below it rested a bronze urn. We had finally arrived. However, as we neared the steps, a light appeared below the statue. Swiftly it formed into being, and the Guardian returned. He walked down the stairs, smiling.

“You have walked the path of Andraste and proven yourselves,” he said. “You have earned your right to the Ashes. Go, pilgrim, and be cleansed of that which ails you.”

He vanished, leaving the path empty.

“We are here at last,” Leliana breathed. “I cannot believe we are in the presence of Andraste herself.” Renewing her grip around me, she took the first step. I followed, my eyes fixed on the urn. It gave off a brilliant light, filled with unmatched power. I had no doubt it would rid me of the poison and set me free. Truly I had been tested to my limit, and I was fully aware I could not have come this far alone.

“Leliana, thank you,” I whispered. “I…”

“Hush,” Leliana answered. “It’s almost over.”

We came to the last few steps, and I was able to look upon the contents of the urn. It glinted with light, dazzling me, and I had to close my eyes. At the same moment, my legs faltered. Leliana held on tighter, trying to keep me upright, but my muscles had lost all power. I dropped to the top of the stairs like a puppet with its strings cut. I could no longer move. Seconds later my head surged, and my neck arched.

“No!” Leliana tried to pull me the last of the way. “Elissa, we’re right _here_! You have to hold on!”

“I…” I reached out, grasping at the brilliant light. Blackness began to descend, and I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn’t respond. No…not when I was so close! I…had to…

“ELISSA!”

Leliana’s cry faded, and the world fell away from me.

I was too late.


	11. Chapter 11

_Duke was at my heels, barking happily as we ran through the corridors of Castle Highever. I giggled, weaving through the servants’ quarters, my breathing laboured. It was my seventh birthday, and Father had given me the mabari as a present. I was going to play with him all day!_

_“Can’t catch me!” I called, running faster. The rugs slid beneath my feet as I headed towards the library, then the main hall. Duke barked again, and suddenly halted. His tail stopped wagging, and he started to whine._

_I stopped as well, puzzled. “What is it, boy?”_

_Suddenly Duke howled, and the world erupted into flames. I screamed, returned to my adult self, as the corridors and walls were bathed in red. Sweat poured down my face, and I started running again. I had to find Mother, Father, Fergus!_

_I escaped the main hall, our soldiers shouting as they fought to defend our home. Every way seemed blocked, when Duke barked, nuzzling my ankles. He wanted me to follow him. I let him take the lead, jumping over the rubble. Arrows skimmed past my shoulders, until I rounded a corner. The kitchen door was open. Duke scampered inside, and I chased after him, slamming the door shut._

_The moment my eyes fell to the floor, I howled. My parents and brother were lying dead. Father had a sword through his chest, Mother had been hit with several arrows, and Fergus was covered in blood._

_“NO!” I shrieked, falling to my knees. My body was wracked with sobs. “Father, Mother, Fergus!” I crawled forward and collapsed on top of them. They were still warm. “I’m sorry, I failed you! I should never have run!”_

_The shouts of the attacking soldiers closed in, but I didn’t move. Let them kill me as well. My world had fallen. I had nothing left to live for._

**_But you do._ **

_My head shot up, my face smeared with blood and tears. A woman’s voice?_

**_You have many things to live for._ **

_I covered my ears. “Who…who are you…”_

**_Please, dry your eyes. I want to show you something._ **

_I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing, but the voice was so alluring, I felt compelled to obey. Wiping my eyes, I managed to stand again. Now I saw her; a woman dressed in a white cloak. Her face was masked by her hood._

**_There is so much you have yet to do,_ ** _she said. **So many people you will meet, many fates you will change.**_

_“No,” I croaked. “I…I don’t want that burden…”_

**_It is yours alone to bear,_ ** _the woman said. **But it is up to you how you will shoulder it.** She reached out, and her fingers touched my cheek. **I remember what it was to live as a mortal. To suffer, to endure pain and loss and torment, yet it is through these struggles we find meaning. We understand the value of kindness, happiness, friendship, and love. No matter how smothering the darkness, there is always a light that can never be extinguished. It is that strength that allows us to keep going.**_

_She offered her hand._

**_Come with me, and we will move forward together._ **

_I stared for a moment. My heart ached, but at the same time pounded with hope. My family were gone, yet I was still here. I would not let their memory be crushed, erased as if they never existed. I had to live._

_I raised my hand, and slid my fingers into hers. Her hood slipped a little, and my eyes widened. I would no longer hold onto regret._

_It was time to move forward._

* * *

 

My eyes flickered open. The world was a blur, and every muscle groaned with pain. I tried to move, only to wince. I felt like I’d been wrestling with a bear.

“Easy now,” a voice soothed. “You were dreaming, Elissa. Try not to move so suddenly.”

Slowly, I lay back down again. I’d been covered in furs, and the walls were deer hide; I must’ve been at camp. I must’ve been in a bad way. Nonetheless, that awful headache seemed to have gone, and neither did my hand throb. Gradually my vision returned, and I found Wynne beside me. She held a hand to my brow, and I tensed.

“Well, your fever has certainly cooled,” she said, ignoring my reaction. “It seems the Ashes truly hold incredible power.”

“The Ashes…” The memory emerged from the haze. “But I never reached them…”

“So Leliana told us,” Wynne said. “She was able to administer them just in time, and bring back a share for the Arl. I am still amazed how she managed to bring you back so swiftly.” Her tone quieted. “Though I did fear we might have been too late. You’ve been asleep for several days.”

“Oh.” I looked to the tent ceiling. An awkward silence descended. Finally Wynne sighed.

“You know, I owe you an apology, Elissa.” She clasped my hand. “My anger made me quick to judge, and I have treated you very badly. It was not my place to push you like I did, and I am sorry.” She paused. “Isolde’s death was just such a shock, I never expected…”

“Me neither,” I said. “I didn’t want to do it, but…”

“You took a decisive action and saved many innocent lives,” Wynne interrupted. “As Leliana has tried to tell us repeatedly. And Isolde was well aware she might need to sacrifice herself.” She sighed. “I was wrong to fault you for my own inadequacies. If we had not delayed…” She trailed off. “We cannot change the past, but we can change the future. If these last weeks have shown me anything, it’s that we need you, Elissa. We are falling apart without a strong leader. Whatever anger we’ve caused, I hope you can set it aside and return to us. Our cause will be lost otherwise.”

She bowed her head. I lay still, digesting her words. Leliana had told me similar in the shrine. Part of me still doubted I was so necessary, but the words from my dream echoed back. There was a reason I had been spared that night in Highever. I would not let it go to waste. Besides, if I tried to abandon destiny again, the Blight would still claim me, if Loghain’s men did not reach me first.

It was time I accepted what the Maker had in store for me.

“I accept your apology, Wynne,” I said at last. “And if it so pleases the others, I will return as well.” I felt for the pendant around my neck. “I was naïve to think I could run from the taint in my blood. I will not allow such weakness to overcome me again.”

Wynne smiled. “I am glad to hear it, Warden.”

I had to smile at my old title. It seemed…fitting.

“Do you think I can sit outside?” I asked. “I dislike being confined so.”

“I would not recommend it, but if that is what you wish…” Wynne offered her hand, and I managed to stumble to my feet. My legs felt stiff and unused, but a few cautious steps got the blood flowing again.

We left the tent, entering a clear, crisp night. Wynne led me to the campfire, and I was grateful for the short distance. It would take some time before my stamina would return. I sat down, and Wynne left for her tent. I was glad the air between us had been cleared. The warmth of the fire soothed my sore muscles, and I closed my eyes for a moment. My peace did not last, as seconds later someone tackled me. I yelped, caught off guard, when a pair of frightened blue eyes met mine.

“By the Maker, you’re finally awake!” Leliana wrapped her arms around me. I bit back a wince, gently returning her embrace. Her left arm sported a bandage, but she appeared otherwise unhurt. Despite myself I started to laugh. How ironic our places had been switched so soon.

Leliana scowled. “What is so funny?”

“I…can’t help it…” I pulled away slightly, catching my breath. “I didn’t mean to fluster you.”

“Fluster me?” Leliana held my shoulders, looking me up and down. “How about turning me inside out, not knowing if you’d stop breathing at any moment?!” Her voice shook. “Not knowing if I had given you the Ashes in time, that you would ever open your eyes again, that it was my fault that Marjolaine…”

“I’m sorry.” I held her hand. “I didn’t mean to cause such worry.”

“I have never been so afraid in all my life.” Leliana’s eyes glistened with tears. “You collapsed at the foot of the urn, your pulse was so weak…” Her hands trembled. “I…I would have never forgiven myself if you had died…”

“Leliana.” I took her hand and pressed it against my chest. “It’s thanks to you my heart still beats. If you hadn’t caught up, I would never have made it to the bridge.” I sighed. “You kept believing in me, even when I could not. I do not know how your faith can be so unshakeable.”

Leliana held my cheek.

“It is not difficult,” she said. “I told you before, you always do what you think is best. You are kind enough to consider all options, yet ruthless enough to take a quick decision when needed. You are not a heartless killer, nor a docile politician. Every choice you take is weighed with reason, and nobody can predict what effect a single decision can make.” She brushed back a strand of my hair. “Isolde may have chosen to die, but the people of Redcliffe and Connor still live, and they have you to thank for that. And with the Ashes, the Arl too will be saved.”

“Yes.” I looked to the fire. “I shall never forget what Isolde did, but I will not hold onto my regret, either. What’s done is done, and I can only strive to ensure it does not happen again.”

“That sounds more like the Elissa I’ve missed,” Leliana said. She drew closer. “I am so happy to have you back.”

“As am I,” I murmured, entwining my fingers with hers. I had never quite realised how much I had missed her. Her breath tickled my lips, and I found myself leaning forward. “Thank you, for…”

Something soft and wet bumped into my leg, cutting me off. It was soon followed by a bark, and before I realised Duke had jumped into my lap. Leliana was pushed aside as he plastered my face with his tongue. I laughed, burrowing my fingers into his fur.

“Alright, alright, I missed you too!” Before I’d drown in saliva, I grabbed his collar and set him down. The mabari nuzzled my knees, and I scratched between his ears.

“His timing is…impeccable,” Leliana muttered, her cheeks crimson. “N-Not that I was…well…”

I giggled, about to comment on her stuttering, when a figure approached the fire. The orange light danced off his face, and I froze. It was Alastair. Duke growled softly, and I held his collar. A tense silenced followed, until Alastair broke his gaze. He stared at the ground, almost…ashamed?

“I’m glad you’re still…well, that you’re not…you know…” He struggled to find his words, so he quickly stopped himself. He took a deep breath, clearing his head. “Elissa, may we…talk? In private, I mean.”

Leliana frowned.

“I’m not going to shout at her, promise,” Alastair added, catching the bard’s expression. “But some things need to be said. For both our sakes.”

“I agree,” I said, before Leliana could protest. “You don’t mind, Leliana?”

Leliana gave a prolonged sigh, and shook her head. She grabbed Duke’s collar and led him away to her tent. Alastair flashed a hesitant smile, before he walked over and sat beside me. He rubbed his hands together, nervous. I waited, giving him time to collect his thoughts.

“Look, I’ve been very, very wrong,” he said at last. “About you, about…what happened.” He took a long breath. “I’ve been incredibly selfish. I had no right to speak to you the way I did, after all you’ve done for us. In fact, if you hadn’t turned up at the shrine, I don’t think any of us would have reached the Ashes anyway.”

He found the courage to look up, and his eyes were filled with sorrow.

“I’m really, truly sorry, Elissa. For all that I’ve put you through.”

“Alastair…”

“No, let me finish,” he insisted. “I’ve done nothing but throw unfair accusations. It was my fault I arrived at the castle too late. I failed the mission you’d set me. And then to throw a tantrum like a child…” He held his hands to his face. “I was hiding behind my own guilt. I’d never gotten along with Isolde, but there was always a part of me that wanted to reconcile, to start over. Now that chance is gone forever, and I blamed you for it. When all you did was save the village, Connor, and now the Arl as well.” He bowed his head. “I don’t deserve forgiveness, and I won’t ask for it, but the truth is I can’t do this alone. I can’t do it without you. And if we’ve any hope to defeat this Blight, you’re our best bet. So please, come back to us.”

His words were heartfelt and sincere. I touched his shoulder.

“It’s been a hard time for all of us,” I said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect Isolde, and you did your best. We’ve both said hurtful things, and we both don’t want this to affect the future. So I’ll forgive you, if you’ll do the same for me.”

Alastair’s eyes lit up. He grasped my hands.

“Thank you, Elissa,” he said. “I promise I won’t let you suffer like this again.”

“Then let’s not dwell on it,” I said. “We have to keep moving forward.”

“Yes.”

“And we’ll only be doing that when you’re fully recovered, Warden,” Wynne’s voice came from behind, and I almost jumped. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one evening. You must rest.”

“Right, of course,” I said.

Bidding my good nights, I returned to my tent. Pulling the furs over myself, I relaxed, feeling much more at peace than I had in a long time. The past had not changed, but at last I was no longer chained to it. I could finally put a lot of thoughts to rest. Maker knew how many choices I had yet to make, how many more lives I’d hold in my hands, but no matter what would happen, I’d see everything through to the end.

That was a promise.

**END**


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